


as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

by iwillwalk500miles



Category: RWBY
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Minor Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Mutual Pining, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, The Bees, Unrequited Love, Weiss Schnee Needs a Hug, Weiss Schnee is stressed, Weiss Schnee-centric, blake and yang are in love, dark themes, poor weiss gets choked a lot, real sorry about not tagging that, the strings are technically abusive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2020-08-14 17:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20196100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillwalk500miles/pseuds/iwillwalk500miles
Summary: Beacon was supposed to be something new. Something wonderful and curious, a place she could learn to be her own person—no longer under the thumb of her father and away from the untold amount of Atlesian political consequences. She didn’t have to fear for her siblings at Beacon, didn’t have to fear for those whose strings sought her out in a frenzy—didn’t have to fear for potential bonded entwining their souls with hers.Or; Weiss knew she wasn't good at things like this.





	1. if there was a way (i'd give us another day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss is not a nice person, until she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *innocently whistles while editing a story that isn't even finished*

Beacon was supposed to be something new. 

That's the first thought that Weiss Schnee had when leaving the airship, when escaping her family in Atlas.

Beacon was supposed to be something _ new. _ Something wonderful and curious, a place she could learn to be her own person—no longer under the thumb of her father and away from the untold amount of Atlesian political consequences. She didn’t have to fear for her siblings at Beacon, didn’t have to fear for those whose strings sought her out in a frenzy—didn’t have to fear for potential bonded entwining their souls with hers. 

Here, she could be herself, here, she didn't have to worry about her father obsessively asking her what she saw when she glanced at someone a little too long. She didn't have to worry about Whitley's pale face, his washed out knuckles, his tears as his soulmates were dragged away. She didn't have to worry about Winter, eyes hard and a little desperate as their father asked Weiss who her sister's soulmates were. 

Weiss Schnee didn't have to worry, not here. She could become a huntress, she could earn all the honors and achievements rather than just receiving them from Ironwood the second she walked onto Atlas' campus. Here, she _ would _ earn everything that was given to her, she would be perfect, would be the best that anyone had ever seen. She was going to do this, she had broken free of her golden swirled silver cage, had extended her wings and already was in the middle of glorious flight— 

But then she saw them. 

It was as though Icarus himself lived through her, wax wings burning into his back as he fell from the sun into the ocean.

Two girls, grinning at each other. One with a ridiculously tacky red cape, the other with wild golden hair.

The smaller one had a head of pure darkness, red accents peeking out of the tufts when hit by the sunlight. Weiss wondered if it was because of residue aura. She was wearing dark clothing, lined with crimson much like her hair, and sturdy looking combat boots. The heiress' gaze lingered a little longer than appropriate, she saw this younger looking girl and felt a sense of familiarity she couldn't quite place, when the threads began to reveal themselves.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, the shorter one was complaining rather loudly about something or another, while her bonded watched with an indulgent smile. Near their hands were yellow and red threads, wrapping their way around their forearms. They were tinged with a silver glow.

Silver was important, Weiss knew, silver bonded Whitley and Winter. Silver bonded family, bonded love. Her father had no threads this color.

But that wasn't what caught her eye. 

_ No_.

Two of their strings had drifted out and wrapped around her. The blonde one's was a pale blue, the color of Weiss' aura, and moved to connect to her own thread that had begin to turn yellow in the face of the other, wrapped around one of her thin wrists. 

She knew what that meant, and reached out to snip the thread before it wound its way into her veins, becoming a part of her body and before it merged with her soul. It hadn't been the first time she had cut the string of a potential soulmate, after all—when she caught sight of the other one.

A string was moving towards her, that strange girl with the strange hood. It was a pale petal red—slithering forward hastily, not seeming to mind that it was forced to intermingle with the grass and dirt and stone. It was a bit strange, in that way—most strings that Weiss had seen tended to take to the sky, floating with a lethargic sort of ease, comfortable with whoever it was attracted to. The snaked its way up the girl's cloak, wrapping it's way around her neck.

Weiss froze in her tracks, stopped with her fingers around the yellow blue thread in absolute fear. She recognized that string, it was the one she looked at in the morning and wished gone.

(_The one that wrapped around her neck_.)

Pain, unfiltered an unflinching, wrapped it's thin pale fingers around her throat and began to _ squeeze _.

Weiss had stopped moving, and had stared and stared and _ stared_— 

She needed to leave. 

Moving forward, she gave the two girls a wide berth, knowing better than to try and approach them. Somehow, Weiss couldn't quite help glancing at the girl with the red cape. Silver eyes met her own, and the fierce burning in her throat returned.

Her father would be furious.

(It was entirely coincidence that she forgot to cut the yellow string from her body, and in the morning it had begun to change color, a swirl of auras, meeting for the first time.)

* * *

Weiss Schnee met Blake Belladonna shortly before they were launched off a cliff. 

Their threads connected while Blake was sneering at her.

She was saying something about the SDC's terrible treatment of faunus, their 'shady' business deals. Briefly, she wondered what exactly this girl had to gain from needlessly ripping Weiss' family to shreds with her words, what did she expect to happen after this? Was she hoping that the heiress would just go, 'oh my word I've never thought of it like that before!' and use her power to change everything? The thought was laughable, even if she wanted to any power she had in Atlas was brittle and faux, easily cut through with a single word from someone like her father.

Still, she listened, idly wondering if the other girl would make a point—when she realized what Blake had wanted. 

To take her down a peg.

Anger swirled in her chest, an icy cold glare beginning to bleed through her mask of chilly indifference.

(And it is that at that moment, that second where Weiss cannot control her temper—when the rage and hurt and disgust seep out of her body, that her life is once again changed forever.)

"What do you _ gain _ from this?" Weiss spat. The air chilled, and then it happened.

The blue slices of aura wrapped around Blake’s right bicep connected to the purples that had wrapped their way around Weiss' pinky finger.

The first thing that filled her was pain, a quiet desperate aching. _ Why? _ Thought Weiss. _ Why did I have to find another one? _

It was silent suddenly, quiet all except for the rambling of the teenagers around them. Amber eyes were wide with shock and loathing, gaze fixed on the point where their strings met. They were strung tight, the air seemed to turn to static around them—the way it was wrapped, not loose like the others—made Weiss wonder if it could snap on its own. 

"You can see them." Blake said. It wasn't a question. She watched Weiss with something that looked a little like annoyance, her eyes glittering with an emotion that she couldn’t identify.

"Would you like me to cut it?" Was her response. She couldn’t help but begin rubbing at the bridge of her nose—averting her gaze. Normally she would have just snipped it right away, but if Blake could see them too, it felt rude to do it without asking. Then again, a part of her mused, Blake had been a downright heathen to her the entire time Weiss had known her, so perhaps a little rudeness would go a long way in her quest for ultimate isolation.

Blake cleared her throat, eyes wide and fluttering, shock coloring every noticeable feature. Her voice was shaky when she finally spoke. "You can _ cut _ them?" It sounded like she was accusing Weiss of something.

"It's part of my family magic." She crossed her arms, looking up sharply to meet her eyes. "Not that someone would believe you if you told them." Weiss fiddled with the end of her ponytail, tone bored, the warning in her words not at all that subtle.

(She normally could be a bit more sneak than that, but she was tired—Beacon was shaping up to be somewhere more dangerous than she had previously thought it would be.) 

"Mine can make more, tie them together." Blake responded, words escaping her mouth as though she had not meant them to.

Weiss raised an eyebrow, her eyes flickering to the string tied around her arm. It looked like it was constricting, almost, and her hand went to her neck in reflex. She wondered if the string was hurting Blake, tightening and tightening like a ruthless little snake—wondered if the civil words had not come so freely as Weiss had previously thought. They stared at each other, neither making a move. Both girls looked down at the point where their threads had connected, the sight making Weiss begin to frown.

"I suppose I'll have to actually listen to you now." The heiress said sighing through her nose, watching as the strands swirled together faster than usual. "Our souls seem to be adamant on us at least being acquaintances."

Blake snorted a little, rolling her eyes. "They do that when both thread-bearers are bonded." She said as a matter of fact, then she tilted her head, as if meaning to ask Weiss a silent question—but Weiss didn’t know her well enough to be able to identify what she was trying to ask her. 

"How do you know that?" She shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms in front of her chest and doing her best to stare Blake down. 

Blake didn't answer, only watching with slowly blinking golden eyes. There was a small brush of astonishment on the girl's face, an expression that made Weiss go cold with silent despair. 

Jealousy pierced her by the stomach, taking hold of her stomach and binding her wrists to the side of her waist. She couldn’t move in the face of this girl’s astonishment, couldn’t even squirm. Weiss felt the first flames of useless anger begin to lick it's way up her collar bones and the back of her neck, a rosy flush making it's home in her checks.

She wondered what it would have been like, to have someone teach her the lore that accompanied the bonds that tie people together.

When it was clear she wouldn't answer the question, Weiss made to move out of the way. Pausing momentarily. "Be careful." She said softly. "If you claim to know the supposed crimes of the SDC, you should be aware of the... _ rumor _ of what my father has done to my brother's bonded."

Blake spun toward her—mouth open and eyes wide, something like horror and sympathy on her face—but Weiss had already moved away, slipping into a comfortable conversation with Pyrrha Nikos.

Weiss saw a white string wrapped around her neck, one that led to a weedy blonde boy not far from them. He had no strings despite Pyrrha's leading towards him. The blonde, John or Joan or something, had talked to Pyrrha earlier, and for some reason the redhead had been genuinely happy to receive the attention.

Something in her chest constricted, and she felt words begin to tumble out of her mouth on accident.

"You should talk to him later." Weiss said suddenly, pointing the boy out. (He was talking to the girl with the red cape from the courtyard.) "He looks like he might need help later." Something stuttered inside of her at the rare kindness in her tone. "I don't believe his aura is activated."

Pyrrha watched her, nothing giving her away except the small surprise burrowed deep in her eyes. It was clear she hadn’t expected Weiss to be too kind to strangers either. 

Weiss tried not to feel offended.

(She failed.)

“It was just an observation.” She grumbled, turning a way and crossing her arms. “I thought you’d like to know, seeing as you seemed rather enamoured with that halfwit—” 

"Thank you." And then Pyrrha was smiling, soft and sweet—her voice surprisingly earnest. There was something about the way she said it that made color begin to surface in Weiss' cheeks. Her eyes twinkled, green and fiery—and for a dreadful moment Weiss felt a heavy weight begin to press down upon her in the face of Pyrrha’s supposed thankfulness. 

When the famous fighter finally turned away, preparing herself as Ozpin spoke, she noticed a string unwrap it's way around the inside of Pyrrha's right knee, and connect the one around Weiss' left. Weiss felt her face pale, and steadily turned herself away.

Another soul shard, in _ another _ girl.

Her father was going to murder her.

(Disregard the fact that Weiss decided to keep this one on purpose.)

* * *

"Um... hi?" The girl said, voice slightly high pitched and childish. She had silver eyes. 

There was a second of stillness, a second of anticipation and fear and the hopeless hope for adoration—and then it passed, Weiss’ gaze lingering as it settled on the stranger’s neck. Weiss could see her thread as clear as day, could see the pale petal red that followed the girl around loosely—never actually touching the girl’s neck. 

Her string had not moved to tie itself with hers.

She had seen something like this only once before, and she had hoped to whatever trace of divinity existed, prayed and sobbed and wished that she may never come across one so similar again.

Weiss said nothing, instead deciding that turning and leaving her standing there was the best course of action.

She _ couldn’t _ do it. She couldn’t damn herself like that, couldn’t allow the two of them to grow close.

Weiss heard the girl call out to her, but it was clear that she knew better than to follow. A small bubble of hope warmed her chest, and she found herself pleading with the universe that the next person that she made eye-contact with had absolutely no threads. In a way, she actually got her wish granted.

Looking up, she saw a blonde boy in white armor and faded blue jeans, struggling with what looked like Pyrrha's weapon. It had impaled his hoodie into a tree, making him hang from an uncomfortable looking position. "Um." His face was flushed. "A little help?"

She turned around immediately. 

In the face of choosing between inevitable heartbreak and an incompetent partner, let it be known that a Schnee is never not stubborn, but will always walk down the path that would be of more use to them. She’d take the strange girl in the strange hood over some useless dimwit anyday. 

"By no means does this make us friends." Weiss grumbled, grabbing the girl by the back of the hood and dragging her deeper into the forest. She could do this, she had to do it now, had to face her emotional issues. 

(Weiss had never had to do that before, face the emotions that ran so rampant in her soul—it was far easier to ignore the little voices in the back of her mind, far easier to lock away the honeyed whispers that begged to brush against her heart.) 

"You came back!" She cheered happily, stumbling as she was dragged backward.

She escaped from Weiss' grip with a small sound of effort, hurrying to keep in step with her. "My name is Ruby, Ruby Rose!" She chattered off absentmindedly. "You're Weiss, right?"

"Yes." She said shortly, looking around them, trying to make a sense of where they were going. 

"Oh cool! I heard you're like, a _ princess _ or something." She said excitedly, following Weiss without much thought. "Which totally makes sense, because, you've got like—" Ruby gestured to her, "—all that going for you, like the whole, super beautiful thing."

"Are you being sarcastic?" Weiss asked flatly, not bothering to look Ruby in the eye. It wouldn't surprise her if that were the case, she hardly ever received genuine compliments so easily, often having to rip them from the mouths of spoiled teenagers and greedy board members. 

(It of course did not help that the last couple she had seen with strings that resembled hers and Ruby's absolutely loathe one another, that they had become rotten people.)

"What? _ No_!" The other teenager protested adamantly, as though the very idea was deplorable.

"Right." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Look, we are not _ friends_, alright? So stop being a _bother_, and just help me figure out where this imbecilic relic is." She didn't want this, didn't want another set of responsibilities on top of the ones she already had.

"Oh... um, sorry." Ruby replied, rubbing the back of her neck.

Weiss stayed silent for a moment. "Heiress."

"What?" Ruby asked.

"Heiress, not... _ not _ princess." She couldn't figure out why the word bothered her so much, all she knew was that she didn't like the way it sounded, and that was enough for her. "Princess sounds _ wrong_."

"Um. Right." Ruby trailed off for a moment. "Sorry."

* * *

"I need a favor." Blake said, cornering Weiss after the ceremony. 

"Already?" Weiss snorted. "What is it?"

Her father had always warned his children of some of the people who might have their threads tied to their own, he claimed that they would want things that they had, that the Schnee family could give, and that they were to be very careful with their ability. Winter had always told Weiss and Whitley that the things their father said were not to be taken seriously, and they had all agreed to never take what he said at face value.

Until Winter left, that is, and the Whitley began to fawn over the man they’d agreed to obey without strictly obeying, and Weiss had decided that her claim to rebellion was far too much of a temptation to ignore.

"I need you to cut off some of my strings."

Weiss blinked for a moment, she had admittedly not been expecting Blake to ask her that. "How long have you had them?" She asked finally.

"One of them for years, the other I got in the forest a couple of hours ago." The huntress-in-training said softly, looking uncomfortable.

The heiress considered her words for a moment. "Xiao Long?" A snort. Yang Xiao Long didn’t seem to like her very much, and Weiss was perfectly content with keeping it that way—even if their strings were so adamant on them becoming close to one another.

Blake hissed, baring her teeth slightly.

"Right." Weiss rolled her eyes, scoffing a little. "The one you've had the longest will hurt the most—" She said, glancing at Blake again, "—so you might want to do that one first."

Blake watched her for a moment, before thrusting her wrist toward her, turning her head away so she wouldn't have to look Weiss in the eyes.

A subtle throb began to pulse in her pinky, and a degree of curiosity and sympathy began to bubble up in her chest. Why was she so adamant on losing these? She didn’t understand, but was quick to stamp down on any emotion that bordered on compassion. Weiss couldn’t allow herself to care, to consider that she may become important to her, so she took Blake’s fragile wrist in her more than capable hands, and examined the thread.

It was the color of rust, frayed at the ends and fading in and out of existence, like it couldn't decide whether or not to live or not. Just looking at it made something churn uncomfortably in her stomach. For a moment she wondered just exactly what it was, what exactly had made the string of Blake's soul act this way. 

The look on her face must have not been hidden well enough, because Blake began to jerk her arm away. “Nevermind, don’t bother—”

“I’ll get rid of it.” Her voice was soft. “I’ll get rid of it if you let me.”

Blake went still. “I can’t have it with me anymore, do you understand? It hurts so much and I can’t—” She hissed, gritting her teeth, it was as though she was not comfortably discussing this so openly.

“Let me see.” Her voice was still gentle, but there was a way that she spoke—her voice lined with disgust and anger—that made Blake flinch away.

But that didn’t stop her from extending her wrist once more. 

Weiss carefully ran her fingers up and down the string, noting how it reached up through the roof of the student hall. It was… horrible, the feeling that swallowed her hole as her fingers made contact with it. Getting rid of it would be difficult and painful, not only for Blake, but for the both of them.

"Blake..." She said, any and all anger she had bleeding out of her. "You may want to cover your mouth for this one… It’s not going to be very pretty."

It was not a quick process, the string was like nothing she had ever seen before, and instead of being snipped neatly like every other she had encountered previously, it fell apart in soiled clumps at their feet. A loud noise of anguish escaped Blake’s mouth, the sound reverberated in the hall—made Weiss’ teeth begin to ache and her ears ring. 

Tears sprung in amber eyes, and Weiss did her best to keep at it without stopping, covering Blake's mouth with the palm of her hand. She grit her teeth, murmuring soothing words as her teammate shook on unsteady legs.

She hoped she _ never _ met who the string had been bound to.

When it was over, Blake sobbed openly, gripping at Weiss' shoulders, her cries muffling as she borrowed her face into the wall. There was a desperation in her actions, despite the conflicting way she went about it—her grip on Weiss was almost possessive, trusting despite the surge of negativity that came with the sharp nails digging into her skin—but the way she cried into the wall, as though she couldn’t bear the thought of allowing Weiss to see her tears. 

Weiss felt something begin to leak from her nose, and pressed her sleeve to it hurriedly. 

It had been a long time since she’d gotten a bloody nose for using her ability. 

"The next one." She mumbled through her tears, "Do the next one." Blake pulled away, gripping at the thread that surrounded her neck, glowing golden.

"No." Weiss said. "Not... not _ that _ one." She shook a little, taking a step back—retreating a tad to hastily. The blood that seeped down her nose made a degree of panic begin to overwhelm her. She pressed her sleeve a little harder down, closing her mouth when a bit of blood began to slip inside. 

The coppery taste grounded her, despite her disgust. And she began to think of a way to get Blake to see _ reason— _

But then she thought of the pain that had come with getting rid of that string, the ache that was throbbing uncomfortably in Weiss’ head. It must be far worse for her, she thought tiredly, it must be some of the worst pain she could have possibly ever felt—souls don’t always mend so easily when perverted. 

"At least... at least not today." Weiss coughed into her hand, feeling a little awkward at the accusation that lay behind her new teammate's eyes. "I don't think that after that one, you have it in you to do the other one comfortably."

Blake hissed again, biting into her palm. "Can't you cut the string?"

"I can!" Weiss huffed indignantly, sniffing. The blood had seemingly stopped for the moment, so she was free to remove her sleeve "But _ that _ one, the one around your neck; you do _ realize _ which one it _ is_, don't you?"

Blake was silent, her eyes flickering to the red stains smeared on Weiss’ nostrils and upper lip.

"It's not any normal bond," She continued slowly, trying to rub away the blood. (It didn’t help much, only smearing her cheeks a little more.) "There's no telling how it would affect you, _ or _ Xiao Long."

"I know that." Blake hissed angrily. 

"Clearly you _ don't_, or you wouldn't be asking me to _ cut _ it—"

"Don't talk to me like that, I know what I'm doing; it's my choice, isn't it?"

"You are so _ insufferable_—!"

"Oh _ please_. I _ know _ who your string is tied to, don't you dare lecture me about my choices when you've been nothing but _ intolerable _ to her—"

"Mine is _ one-sided_! So please, tell me what I should do about _ that_."

Blake stopped moving. "Oh."

It was silent, both teenagers nose to nose, chests heaving in anger. Blake had begun to calm down, opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to figure out what to say, but Weiss' cold blue eyes struck a chord in her—making her absolute anger and despair, emotions that were no doubt coming from the girl in front of her.

"Um... are we interrupting something?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

Weiss went still, taking a couple steps away from her. She looked away from them, hiding her face. It was Pyrrha and another girl, her teammate, Nora or something else.

“Weiss?” Pyrrha asked. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.” She bit out shortly, hesitantly looking at her from the corner of her eye. 

“Is there a problem here?” Pyrrha’s voice was serious, suddenly—her face contorted into something that looked almost protective.

"No." Blake said stiffly, "It's nothing important."

"Right." Nora nodded, disbelief clear as day on her face. "I'm sure that's true." Her eyes went back and forth from the two of them, her expression a mix between impish and curious. 

"Mhmm." Blake said, gently prodding Weiss toward the direction of their shared dorm. She went willingly, shooting Pyrrha what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but probably looked like a bloody grimace. "Nice hammer by the way."

"Why thank you." Nora said, happiness distracting her from her previous suspicion. "I happen to think it's the best weapon in the whole entire universe, but Pyrrha won't agree with me she thinks it's one of the worst."

The redheaded girl sputtered. "_What_! No, I did _ not _ say that—" The two moved forward, walking past Blake and Weiss. "—I just said I _ prefer _ my own weapon—"

The teammates continued down the hall, the previous encounter forgotten.

"Give it two weeks." Weiss said when they were gone. "If you still want it gone... still want _ all _ of them gone, I'll do it for you."

Blake said nothing as Weiss retreated into the dorm room.

(She rushed into the bathroom to clean off her face, and failed to notice the alarmed looks that Ruby and Yang had shot her.)

* * *

The days that followed were spent avoiding everyone (except Pyrrha, who had taken to making sure that Weiss was eating properly) living in the library reading and researching everything and anything that had to do with grimm and aura. She had already learned many things and theories about how the strings were tied to them, but knew that there would never be enough information she could memorize that would make her feel better.

She didn't like where this thought process was taking her. 

Weiss groaned into one of the dusty books she had been reading. She couldn’t find anything that indicated Blake would be alright after the thread around her neck was snipped. It made her feel helpless, like a bystander to a great natural disaster—only she would soon become one of the victims, swallowed up by the earth and burned alive by deep crevices full of the body melting vats of magma.

She didn't like feeling like she couldn't do anything.

"The red string of fate...?" A slightly childish voice questioned. "I didn't know you liked fairy tales, Weiss."

She looked up, and met the curious silver eyes that belonged to her team leader. "I was feeling nostalgic." She stated flatly, returning to the book in her hands, flipping to the next page irritably. 

“I like fairytales too, you know.” Ruby started conversationally, “Yang used to read them to me all the time, though she wasn’t much of a fan of that one—” She gestured to the book in her hands, “—she said that it didn’t make sense… not that I could really blame her.” 

Some people believed in the strings, some didn't, it appeared that Ruby fell in the latter category.

Weiss scowled into the story, her shoulders stiffening. It was kind of like a spit in the face, almost. 

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked. At Weiss' cold glare, she laughed a little. "I mean _ other _ than me ruining your day, you were like this before you noticed I was here."

"Was I?" The words were biting, chilly. 

"Hey now." Ruby said, her tone surprisingly serious. "I get that maybe you don't like anybody here except probably Pyrrha, but I'm genuinely worried about you, okay?" She frowned, crossing her arms over her uniform. "And if you don't like that, think about it this way—if we don't get along our scores on the team exams will be low."

She hated the fact that the younger girl had a point.

"_Look_." Weiss spat, anger seeping out of her bones as her shoulders slumped. "I get that you have a _ point_—" She wrinkled her nose, "—but right now I'd rather just be reading this book than doing any 'team building' exercises; you could bother me with all that rot, _ later_."

"Alrighty." Ruby said, cheerful expression never faltering. "You don't mind if I sit here and study, do you?"

She opened her mouth to tell the younger girl that, _ yes _ she did mind—when something pulled at her neck. The pale headed teen looked down for a moment, watching in silent terror as the threads wrapped around her neck began to tighten and suffocate her. She was getting _ choked_.

(And the fear that filled her body was a horrible thing, overwhelming and terrible. It drowned her, heat scorching the inside of her throat and leaving brands of hatred and terror and disappointment—her lungs constricting as air failed to enter her body.) 

"Feel free." Weiss choked out, her voice not quite her own. The words seemingly came from somewhere deep in her mind, as she had not been intending to say them. "As a matter of fact," She continued, "If there's something you don't quite understand, feel free to ask for help."

Ruby blinked, silver eyes widening a fraction. It was clear that whatever response the girl had been expecting, it had not been the one she had received. "Thank you." She said softly, watching her with no small amount of hesitation. 

"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum." Weiss mumbled, remembering her parents suddenly. Ruby's head snapped up, more surprise coloring her youthful features. Weiss flushed when she realized exactly what words had escaped her mouth, straightening her spine and averting her cold blue gaze. "I mean—"

Ruby laughed a little. "Still... thank you."

Weiss didn't quite have it in her to say 'you're welcome.'

(She didn’t have it in her to accept the fact that Ruby was still determined on being kind to her, despite Weiss’ frankly atrocious behavior.)

* * *

"Are you being nice to me on purpose?" Yang asked her, eyes narrowed. She looked at Weiss like she expected to be hit over the head, or smothered in her sleep. The two girls sit in the courtyard, waiting for the rest of their team to meet them there. Ruby and Blake had a different class at this time, something that Weiss hadn't realized would be bad until she was stuck alone with Yang Xiao Long, the very girl who may be out of a soulmate in a week. 

She had been trying to be civil, as she didn't want to cause the girl any untoward emotions just in case Blake decided to go through with her decision. Weiss may be cold, but her heart _ isn't _ made of stone, and the part of her that ached for happiness felt nothing but sympathy for the unlikely pair—and hoped dearly that Blake made a different choice than before. 

"Yes...?" She mumbled, confused. "Was I doing it incorrectly?"

Yang bursts into loud bouts of laughter. "Only you Ice Queen, only you." Her shoulders shake as she fights her giggles.

"Don't call me that." Weiss stated flatly, wincing a little inside. It was hard being quote on quote, _ 'nice _.'

"Now that's more like it." The blonde girl winked playfully, and for a moment the heiress' eyes are drawn to the place where their strings connect with each other. "What are you lookin' at?" Yang interrupts her thought process, tilting her head and watching her with curious violet eyes.

She wonders if she knows that Blake's aura is the same color as her eyes. Weiss considers her for a moment, and wonders what might be gained by telling Yang this information. (And then she despised herself a little more than before, deciding that she didn’t care what she got out of this, didn’t care what repercussions might come, and opened her mouth to tell her.)

“It was just… I was wondering if you noticed that Blake’s aura is the same color of your eyes, and vice versa.” Weiss managed to make her voice sound nonchalant, an accomplishment that makes her inwardly cheer.

"Oh um." Her face goes a little pink, and she finds that Yang is looking uncharacteristically flustered. "No... I didn't know that." She ruffled her hair a little. "How did _ you _ know that?"

"Magic." Weiss stated dryly, turning away from her. She wonders if her ‘nice-ness’ quota was filled for the day. Maybe she should start making a chart, it would certainly improve her overall behaviour—perhaps it would come in handy. 

"_Weiss_!" Yang whined a little. "How come you know more about my partner than I do?" She's pouting a little, and a flicker of genuine sorrow makes a home in her usually jubilant features. 

"We got into a fight, our aura's were less than pleased." Weiss says, not necessarily lying. "She detests my father and made the mistake of comparing me to him, I got rightfully offended."

"That doesn't help me at all though." The blonde girl says, sighing. She leaned back into the bench laying her head on the stone surface away from her teammate. "I know I have to be patient, and wait for her to open up, but it's so hard sometimes, you know?"

Weiss said nothing, flexing her thin washed out fingers. "No. I'm afraid I don't."

Yang snorted. "Right. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment."

"I somehow doubt that." The heiress responded, tone softer than before. She looked at Yang from her position above her, "What do you gain by asking _ me _ this? Blake gets along better with _ you _ than anyone else..." She tilted her head, frowning. “Trust me.”

"But you two talk a lot, don't you?" Yang asked, "Nora told me that she thought you two were close, or something."

Weiss considered throttling the other girl when she next saw her. "We aren't that close, Yang. Not to mention she pretty much despises me, I sincerely doubt that she could ever—"

"She doesn't hate you." Yang interrupted, sitting up and looking surprised. "She could _ never_."

Weiss laughed at that. "You don't have to try and spare feelings where there are none, and if you believe she does not hate me as a person that’s fine—but it is no secret she loathes everything I ever stood for." She flicked some pale hair out of her cold eyes. "She talks to me out of necessity more than anything else, I don't know if you noticed, but she's more willing to encourage you and your sisters antics than spend any real time with someone like me."

“What?” Yang looked dreadfully confused. “That doesn’t…” She frowned, an odd expression on her face, and a look of understanding passed on her face. “Do you even _ have _ any real friends?”

“It’s quite frankly none of your business.” Weiss tilted her head. “Why do you care, exactly?”

“You’re my teammate.” Yang explained easily, shrugging her shoulders. “Not to mention my little sisters partner, if I’m going to have to tolerate you throughout the next four years may as well make sure you have people to bother that aren’t me.”

“How kind of you.” Weiss turned away. “Either way, you shouldn’t worry about it, any sort of friendship I make here is temporary.”

“Is it because you hate everyone?”

“I don’t hate—” 

"Now that I think about it, it seems like you hate a lot of people." Yang said, brows furrowing, her eyes seem to catch fire for a moment. “Weiss, can I ask you something?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to ask no matter my response.”

“Why do you hate my sister?”

She blinked, watching her teammate with confused and suspicious eyes. "I _ don't_." Weiss stated, a frown beginning to make its way onto her face. "Does it seem like I do?" 

Oops.

"Uh, _ yeah_!" Yang says, frustration making her eyes shine red. "You're _ always _ making her doubt herself, and you always seem to be playing hot and cold—she can't make any _ sense _ of you!"

"Apologies." She stated coolly, looking away from her. Weiss really was going to have to get better at the whole, 'sensitivity' thing.

"I'm not the one you should be saying sorry to." Yang huffed a little, eyes turning back to their normal color. "Now, are you going to tell me why _ exactly _ you treat my baby sister like crap or am I going to have to punch you in the face?"

"How about neither?" Weiss crossed her arms.

"How about both?" Yang retorted snidely. "Just spit it out, Ice Queen."

"_Don't _ call me that." 

"You're funny, making demands from no position of real authority." Yang snorted, rolling her eyes. "Bet that _ kills _ you—my baby sister beat you out for team leader because Ozpin saw that you're _ nothing _ but a _ selfish_, _ egotistical_—" Yang ranted, her anger making the air around her scorching.

Weiss watched with tired eyes, and began to rub at her wrist—the spot where Yang’s string had seen fit to tie itself. "Are you done?" She sighed, crossing her legs out in front of her.

"Not even close."

"Look, do you want to know or not?" She groaned into the palm of her hand.

"Well yeah! I'm going to punch you in the face eventually, I just need to make sure it's for a good reason!"

Weiss wanted to dig a hole and hide in it for eternity.

"Look I'm... difficult." She started. "Or, I was difficult to Ruby for no real reason you'd believe—which isn't the point anyway, the only thing you need to know was that it is so _ stupid _ I will always look back and wonder how much of dunce I had to be to succumb to something I promised myself never to succumb to." She gripped at her skirt, the material bunching between her thin fingers. "Now that I've realized how terrible I was being I'm trying to be... _ nicer_, but it is clear that if you believe I actually _ hate _ her, I have not been succeeding."

"You really haven't." Blake quipped from behind her.

Yang jumped while Weiss shrieked.

Ruby, blushing a little, waved at them sheepishly. "Hey, Weiss..."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, before glaring at Blake.

The teenager shrugged. "Take it as a lesson never to confide in anyone ever again."

"Blake,_ no_—" Yang started.

Weiss surprised them all by laughing. Her eyes shone a little, and she pretended she didn't feel the strings wrap tighter around her. "I'll keep that in mind, Belladonna."

“Weiss.” Blake started softly, after a moment. The air was charged suddenly, and Weiss felt her stomach begin to churn in anxiety. “I have an answer for you.”

She went still. “You _ said _ you’d give it more time—”

“I don’t want you to do it anymore.” Blake said simply, before pausing, as if realizing that Ruby and Yang were still there. “Ah, should we speak in private?”

Yang’s eyes narrow slightly, flickering from Weiss to Blake.

“If you think we need to.” Weiss fidgeted. “But if I don’t need to do it anymore I don’t need your reasoning, I’m just…” She paused, gritting her teeth, she could be nice—she _ could_. “I’m happy that you’ve decided to pursue a… _ kinder _ path.” 

Blake furrowed her eyebrows, smiling a little disbelievingly. “So you _ have _ been practicing being nice.”

“Yes! Is it working?” Weiss asked hopefully, not quite able to make her voice sound unaffected.

“Not at all.” Blake grinned. “Maybe you should join a sensitivity class.” 

Weiss sighed, burrowing her head into her hands. “But I’ve been trying so _ hard._” 

Ruby’s laughter interrupted the two of them. It was a soft sound, much more genuine than Weiss had heard previously.

“It’s okay, Weiss!” Ruby said with a grin as Weiss peeked out through her fingers. “If you have to take the class then so do we!”

“Yeah, no thanks.” Yang interjected

“That’s not happening.” Blake added.

“You guys!” She spun on them, placing her hands on her hips and pouting. “We’re supposed to be a _team_!”

Weiss was once again caught off guard by Ruby’s earnestness. Was… was this an act? Could it be possible that her partner simply was the type of person to show kindness without desiring something untoward in return?

She could never be sure, not when their strings refused to tie together.

But she could at least show that kindness in return.

“Thank you, Ruby.” She smiled, and it was one of the first real smiles she’d worn in months. “I appreciate it.”

Ruby’s beam was brighter than all the stars combined. “No problem, partner!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who added more content and fixed mistakes in this chapter.... it was me


	2. don't say that you think that they know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! things get worse,,,,, like,,,, way worse,,,, warning for graphic injury,,, i guess,,,
> 
> title from "dorothy" by her's

It was happening more often, the choking. It was such a strange event that just seemed to be happening to her more and more, she’d be doing something, anything—and then suddenly she couldn’t breathe. It led to a lot of situations in which she just couldn’t explain to anyone what was wrong except for Blake—and that was only because Blake could actually _see_ what was wrong. They had grown closer since they had all found out that Blake was a faunus, since Blake had realized that Weiss didn’t care whether she had cat ears or not, and that meant that the other girl wasn’t just willing to sit and _watch_ as Weiss had the life choked out of her.

From the look on her teammate’s face, it was a terrifying sight to behold. 

(And it was, watching the way that a blood red thread would constrict around Weiss’ throat—smothering the air out of her lungs, like some sort of define punishment for being unlucky—as though the souls around her were desperate to end the life of one who had an unrequited bond. It was, sickening—the idea of it. As though just because the person who you were meant for wasn’t meant for you, just because you had a stroke of misfortune, that you should be punished endlessly for something out of your control.)

One brightside to her hellish situation, Blake seemed much more content with being civil with her than before. Which surprised her, if only because her teammate (even though they’d previously had some sort of truce) had seemed adamant on disliking Weiss—seemed to never be able to stomach looking at her longer than a few seconds.

“You should try and talk to her.” Blake suggested. “Ruby, I mean.” 

They were sitting outside, under a tree, watching as Ruby and Yang ran around chasing each other—pelting each other with rocks, piles of leaves, sticks, and all sorts of strange things they could find around them. Weiss had only accompanied them because when she was around Ruby she could breath easier—even if it was true that if her threads choked her it would be more painful.

Weiss smiled, a cold thing, and let out a soft puff of air. “And why should I do that, exactly?” She closed her book on dust compounds (something she read to relax) and tapped her fingers along the hard edges of the cover. “Give me one good reason.”

“It’s a little easier isn’t it? Being nearby?” Blake suggested, not really looking at her, amber eyes watching the two sisters laugh and play. “I know it’s easier for me.”

“Our situations aren’t exactly the same.” Weiss pointed out, her deceitful smile dropping to much more honest frown.

“Maybe not, it’s just… well.” Blake paused, turning to look at her after a moment of consideration. “You aren’t the only one who suffers when it comes to threads… it’s worse for everyone who can see them, though I will admit that your situation is a bit—”

“Extreme?” Weiss interjected with a raised eyebrow.

Blake winced, sighing and returning her gaze to the sisters. “If the word suits you.”

“Hmm.” Weiss hummed, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “I do believe that I prefer the term: _hellish_.”

“You’re _so_ over dramatic.” Blake let out a sigh, flicking a bit of loose grass toward her. 

“Says you.” Scoffed Weiss, easily batting away the offended greenery. “What is it you asked me to do for you the first day you knew me?”

“Oh, that’s _hardly_ fair.” Blake protested.

“Well, I can agree to that when it comes to first act.” Weiss admitted. “But the second was a little extreme, even for you.”

“...you aren’t exactly wrong.” She mumbled, her tone a low and annoyed grumbling.

Weiss grinned at her triumphantly.

They were interrupted by a loud whoop, the sound of Ruby cheering after Yang tripped and face planted into a mud puddle. “Take _that_! Who’s the best sister _now_, Yang?”

The mud started to bubble and boil as Yang’s temper grew. “I’ll get you for that, evil doer!”

“What kind of nickname is evil doer—_whoa_!” Ruby shouted, dodging the suddenly very _on fire_ stick that Yang had shot her way.

“Oh, crap.” Blake sighed, “Yang set something on fire again.”

“Honestly, she’s practically a pyromaniac.” Weiss agreed. “Considering how easily Ruby loses control of her dust, I wonder if arson runs in the family.”

“That was an accident.” Blake admonished.

“Tell that to my burned combat skirt.” Weiss grouched, crossing her arms and turning up her nose a little bit. “She’s lucky I had a spare set of trousers.” She gestured to her legs, which were unusually covered up by white slacks accented with red and light blue. “I don’t even know why I have these.” 

Blake let out a very loud sigh, rolling her eyes. “You are _such_ a drama queen.”

“Says _you_!” Weiss shot back, fighting the urge to smirk. 

“Blakey come help me set Ruby on fire!” Yang shouted at them, grinning while hefting a flaming ball of dirt. “It’ll be a great team bonding exercise… _probably_.”

“No fire!” Ruby yelled back at her sister, using her semblance to speed away and up the tree Weiss and Blake were sitting under. “Fire bad!” 

Yang grinned, a positively evil expression on her face, and threw the flaming ball of mud anyway.

Blake bolted out the way quickly, while Weiss simply rolled her eyes and summoned a platform glyph so that the offending projectile was uselessly splattered against it. She stood to her feet slowly, sighing and brushing her pants off while putting her book back into her bag. If she had to succumb to all of Yang Xiao Long’s shenanigans just to prevent the cutting off of her air circulation, she’d rather take the chance at suffocating. 

“Boo! You’re no fun, Ice Queen.” Yang stuck her tongue out at her, making Weiss roll her eyes. 

“Excuse me for not wanting to be set on fire.” She grumbled, slipping her bag onto her shoulder and making her way forward. She didn’t know exactly where she would rather be at that moment, all she knew was that she wanted to get _away_.

“Wait!” Yang protested, surging forward to follow. “I just wanted you to know you looked pretty _hot_ in those pants! I mean your ass is like—”

Blake appeared out of nowhere next to her, easily cuffing her on the shoulder before she could finish. 

Weiss grimaced. “Please never speak to me ever again.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely—” Yang was once again cut off by Blake, this time from poke to the cheek. 

“Where are you going, Weiss?” Ruby asked, speeding out in front of her and grinning broadly. “C’mon, stick around—it’s team bonding day!”

“Since when has—”

“Since now.” Ruby grinned, “C’mon! _Please_?”

Then it happens.

It’s a wonder, really—the way that the threads seem to want to choke the life out of her. It’s a wonder, because the concept of soulmates left others breathless figuratively—left them with eyes full of stars and smiles that form the word _marvel_. But the concept of soulmates left Weiss breathless _literally_—the strands of her soul wrap tighter and tighter around her neck—making her grimace. She tries to swallow, tries to take a breath—tries to do anything at all; but she knows better than to expect relief when all she feels is the rapid burning around her throat, when all she feels is the way that they constrict.

“I think Weiss needs a break.” Blake is quick to interject, eyes a little wide as she hastily begins to tug her away. “Give us a minute—”

That makes Yang and Ruby frown, how hasty Blake is to take her away—but Weiss can’t find it in herself to care. 

Blake takes her to an empty classroom, locking the door behind them as she hastily gets to work.

“You have to talk to her.” Blake whispered, hands going to her neck as she tugged the strings away before they could leave bruises and burns. “It’s the only way any of this is going to get better.”

Weiss scowled. “You don’t—” Her voice is a cough, a shade of its former self—and Weiss knows it is because the strings always seem to burn away at her vocal cords, knows it is because they seem so adamant on influencing the things that come out of her mouth. Sometimes it’s like she’d swallowed acid—her throat rotting and disintegrating from the inside out.

“Shh.” Blake’s voice is gentle. “Don’t try and talk, you know it’ll only make it worse.”

Weiss can’t find herself agreeing, how worse could it possibly get?

* * *

She remembered her brother in waves. It was a strange sort of remembering, it felt like she was standing on a beach in front of a sea of memories—getting pushed down over and over again with wave after wave. Weiss would fall to the floor, sand staining her face and clothing, and she would struggle to her feet as she processed the memory of her brother that had knocked her down. Then, right as she had finished, another wave would come—knocking her down without gentleness, ruthless in its nature and desire for her to never forget. It was pulling at her, now, those waves—pulling her deeper into that sea of memories—forcing her _down down down_ until all the air left her lungs and the only thing left to breath on was her guilt and crushing defeat.

She awakes as the salt water fills her lungs—she awakes with the burning of her throat and the press of something on her chest.

Weiss stumbled out of her bed, gripping at her throat and rushing into the bathroom—only partly aware of the fact that it was far too early in the morning for her to be rushing anywhere. Her back hit the closed door—sliding down as she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees. Something was _choking_ her— 

“Weiss?” It was Blake. “Weiss what’s the matter?” She sounded worried, and her voice lowered. “I felt the strings go haywire, hurry and let me in—you woke up everyone.”

Weiss let out a strangled gasp, struggling to her feet and opening the door.

Blake looked positively sleep deprived. Her hair was all over the place, her robe askew as she rubbed at her eyes and yawned into the palm of her hand. “Now, what’s the—” Her eyes went wide, and she quickly surged into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. 

“Blake?” Yang yawned through the door. “Is the Ice Queen alright? It’s like… three in the morning so she better not be, because then that would mean she woke us all up for no reason.”

“Be…" A yawn, "um, be nice.” Ruby chastised, though sounded far too tired for her words to really take any hold. 

“Uh.” Blake started, her eyes wide and panicked. Her hands went to Weiss’ neck as she desperately tried to loosen the strings that were tightening around her so badly that she was actually starting to bruise. It was worse than the few times that it had happened before, worse than Blake had any actual experience with. “You… should, um… you should both probably go back to bed.” 

Weiss grimaced, placing her hands on Blake’s shoulders and choking as her teammate desperately tried to loosen the bonds. 

“What?” Yang knocked on the door. “C’mon Blakey we’re a team, it can’t be that bad—what is she on her period or something? I got some tampons in the drawer.” 

“It’s, um.” Blake looked at Weiss, panicked as she desperately tried to come up with an excuse for her. “Not that.”

Weiss let out a cough as the strings loosened, only to constrict once more. It was beginning to burn, not only was the one around her neck going absolutely insane—but the other ones, the one around her knee and her wrist and her pinky—were tightening so badly that the lack of blood circulation was making Weiss feel faint. 

That’s never happened before.

“Oh _shit_—!” Blake swore, pushing her down on the closed toilet seat and doing something with the strings that she couldn’t make any sense of. “Weiss what did you _do_?”

As though it is her fault, as though she has some ounce of control on when the threads take it upon themselves to remind her that she is human. As though Weiss had personally chosen to spite the gods, as though her actions directly caused everything that was happening.

“Is she alright?” This was Ruby, and the concern in her voice only made the string around her neck choke harder. “She’s not sick, is she?”

“Oh fuck, is she hurling?” Yang asked. “Maybe we should back away from the door a little, Rubles, let Blake take care of… all that.” 

“What do you mean—? Oh! She’s throwing up.” 

“Yup!” Yang cheered, “Hey, brightside, now she can be Vomit Boy’s Vomit _Girl_.” 

“_Yang_!” Blake shouted. “Please, not right now!” There was a desperation in her voice that made the room go quiet. 

Weiss didn’t think she’d ever heard Blake sound like that—not about _her_ anyway. She wondered if Blake knew what was happening to her, if she knew how to fix it. She was slowly becoming able to breath again, but the desperate burning in her throat was raging no matter how much Blake attempted to help her.

She huffed again, desperately trying to get more air.

“Breathe.” Blake soothed. “Come on, Weiss, you just have to breathe—the strings react to _you_, so you have to calm down in order for it to get better, alright?”

Weiss wanted to snap something rude at her, to tell her that _she_ should try calming down when parts of her soul were trying to strangle _her_ to death—but all she could do is claw at her neck, desperately trying to loosen the threads that seemed so adamant on suffocating her. Blood started to pour out of her nose, and she gagged as it flooded into her mouth. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Blake whispered soothingly, “Just listen to me, okay? Just try and focus on my voice.” 

She closed her eyes, spitting out the blood in her mouth and trying to do as her teammate asked. Blake’s tone was soothing, her gentle words repeated over and over again until Weiss could take a breath without immediately keeling over afterword. There was a great pain there, surging throughout her body and settling into her heart—she felt so brittle, so delicate; as though with a single blow of the wind she’d collapse. 

She hated that.

“There we go.” Blake sounded relieved. “You’re almost done, it’s almost over.”

Weiss’ eyes burned, and it took every ounce of willpower that she had not to cry out in _relief_. Was this how it would be now? She wondered, would her stupid little threads always hold such power over her? The idea terrified her, made her feel as though she’d left one cage just to be thrown into another. Blood still streamed from her nose, running down her face and staining her nightgown, but Blake had pressed toilet paper to her face in an effort to contain it, and the flow was beginning to finally stem.

“Blake.” Weiss choked out. “What—” She coughed, her voice raspy.

“Shhh!” Blake gently admonished her, “Don’t try and speak right now.” 

Weiss glared up at her halfheartedly, furrowing her brows as Blake smiled wobbly down at her. 

“I’ll…” Blake looked at Weiss for a moment, trying to decide what to do. “I’ll grab an ice pack, and some bandages—a change of clothes too maybe… and some water.” She nodded, “Okay? I’ll be right back.”

Weiss grimaced, the coppery taste of blood still in her mouth as Blake patted her head once and then fled the bathroom.

“Is that _blood_!?” Yang exclaimed, “I thought you said she wasn’t on her period!”

“That isn’t how periods work, Yang.” Ruby protested, before pausing. “...I think.”

“Don’t go in there.” She heard Blake warn, “She won’t like it.”

“I don’t care if she won’t like it—” This was Yang, unsurprisingly enough. “—if Ice Queen is bleeding out on the bathroom floor I think we have a right to _know_ about it!”

“She’s not—_Yang_!”

The door slammed open. 

Weiss jumped, her hands reaching up to cover her neck as though that would hide the festering burns and bruises. She must make quite the sight, she thought bitterly, her face covered in blood and the obvious injuries on her body. She glowered down at her feet, deciding that she wouldn’t allow them to see her face fully. She could at least have that, if she was being seen like _this_, if she was forced to suffer the endless questions that no doubt they would have for her. 

That’s when she noticed that her wrist was bruised too, and so was her hand and her knee—that’s when she noticed that her neck wasn’t the only place that had wrath wrought upon it. 

“Holy shit.” Yang whispered, and her eyes were blown wide open. “Holy _shit_.” She didn’t look prepared for the sight in front of her at all, in her sleeping clothes—her hair more of a mess than usual. 

“Yang what is it?” Ruby asked, “Hey come on, let me see!”

“Ruby go get bandages.” Yang snapped out of it, easily shaking of her surprise and covering the doorway so her sister couldn’t see. “Go and get bandages _now_.”

“On it!” The sound of running feet.

“What the fuck _happened_!?” Yang spat harshly, her eyes blazing red. “_Who_ the fuck did _that_!?”

“Yang, calm down—” Blake tried to interrupt, placing an arm on her shoulder and desperately trying to get her to stop talking.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down? Someone beat the shit out of Ice Queen and we’re sitting here doing _nothing_—”

Weiss went still. Yang was… _worried_ about her? Yang thought that someone had _hurt_ her and wanted to _help_ her? Yang? As in _Yang Xiao Long_? The very same Yang who didn’t care much about her in the first place? Who had ripped into her when she thought that Weiss was treating Ruby wrong on purpose? Who was constantly saying crude things to her and making her annoyed just because she could? Who had no qualms on stating that they weren’t friends?

“I’m fine.” Weiss rasped quietly, still shaken. “They’ll be gone by the morning.” Her aura was good for something, at least.

“Weiss, it looks like you were _strangled_ with _barbed wire_—”

“She’s right.” Blake murmured. “It’s way worse than last time.” 

“What do you mean, _last_ time?” Yang spun on her partner, betrayal painted across her face. “You _knew_ about this? Blake you _knew_, and you just kept letting it happen?”

“She couldn’t exactly prevent it.” Weiss rasped. “Nobody can.”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t make any _sense_! Just tell me this dudes name and I’ll beat the—”

“It isn’t a person.” Blake revealed quietly, edging away slightly. “It’s much more complicated than that.” 

Yang deflated, her eyes snapping back from red the second Blake moved away. “What’s going on?” She asked, much quieter than before. “Why is she hurt so bad?”

Right as Blake was about to respond, the door burst open, a tornado of rose petals speeding inside. “I found bandages! I had to wake up JNPR and they were _not_ happy but they seemed pretty worried when I told them it was for Weiss and—oh my dust what in Remnant _happened_?!”

Weiss went very still, and hoped with every ounce of her being that she would not be choked again, that they would not see what happens to Weiss first hand. Blake was quick to grip her shoulders, to eye her the strings around her neck just in case they decided to constrict. When nothing happened, both of them slumped over in defeated relief. 

That’s when Weiss noticed Blake’s palms.

“They’re burned.” She whispered in horror, reaching forward quickly and gripping them—turning them over so Blake had no chance to hide them away. “You burned yourself on my—”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know that.” Blake was quick to interject, “You know how they react to—”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you _hurt_ yourself trying to keep me from—” She coughed, gripping at her throat as the strings slithered over her neck. They didn’t tighten, didn’t move, but they stayed there—pressing down slightly like a reminder. Weiss almost cried out, in frustration or pain or sadness she didn’t quite know. 

“You need water.” Blake whispered, “Ruby can you—”

“I’m not going.” Ruby stated, brows furrowed. “Weiss is _hurt_, I’m not going anywhere.” She pushed her way forward, wincing when she noticed the burns and bruises, and gently raised the roll of bandages toward her. "Do you want me to wrap it for you?"

Weiss couldn't make a sound, couldn't do much of anything except nod her head; an action that she hadn't meant to take.

Ruby nodded, sighing shakily, and carefully began to wrap her neck. 

Weiss tried not to feel like she was being tied to a noose, being prepped to hang over the gallows. 

"We'll need more bandages for your wrist." Ruby murmured. She stood, moving to stand next to her sister. "You'll go get them, right Yang?"

Weiss struggled not to let out a wheeze, her fingers still grasping at her thread—invisible to all but her and Blake. It would be so easy, she realized, to cut it—to snip it off so that she didn’t have to succumb to this anymore—so she didn’t have to be in pain. It would work, she realized distantly, it would be perfect for her; it was actually a _good idea_. She wouldn’t be choked anymore, she wouldn’t have to worry about her father dragging away supposed soulmates, she wouldn’t even have to worry about _them_, the people meant to be in her life.

It would be so easy.

Wouldn’t it?

“Weiss.” Blake said, eyes widening. “You wouldn’t.”

Without noticing, her hands had begun to pinch at the string, subconsciously starting the process of untying it. She dropped her wrists, allowing them to settle on her sternum—barely controlling the urge to fiddle with the threads.

“I could, though.” Weiss said softly. “Don’t you think I could?”

“You made me promise to consider.” Blake whispered harshly. “How hypocritical would you have to be, to do it without a second thought?”

She grit her teeth.

“What are you two talking about?” Ruby asked, getting a frustrated look on her face. “You’ve both been talking in riddles since we’ve met!”

“There’s a—”

“Don’t you dare.” Weiss hissed. “You can tell them all about you if you wish, but know that you _will not_ drag me into it.” 

“We have to tell them sometime, we have four years together—wouldn’t it be easier just to come clean?” Blake protested. “And considering just how tied together we are, wouldn’t it be _best_ to just _tell_ them?”

“My father would be furious—family secrets stay _secret_.” Weiss insisted, looking away from her and clenching her fists, working her jaw in frustration. 

“Can your father even _see_ them? Or did you inherit this from your—”

“_Enough_!” Weiss’ shoulders shook, her chest heaving. “You know _nothing_ of my family, nothing at all, and I’ll have it stay that way—no matter how tied together we may be!”

It was silent, then.

“What do you mean… tied together?” Yang asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. “What are you two talking about?”

“There’s a blessing—”

“There’s a _curse_.” Weiss interrupted Blake, a sneer marring her face. “Don’t tell them it’s something it isn’t.”

“Your family may be the victim of a curse.” Blake glared, her expression beginning to become sharper with anger. “But mine are the receivers of a _blessing_.”

“Because you’re _obviously_ so very blessed!” Weiss snapped back sarcastically, “Given the tools to tie people together without a thought of the consequences!” She knew it was a low blow, knew it the moment it left her mouth—but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

“And because you’re obviously so very cursed.” Blake retorted cooly. “Given the tools to free people from the bonds that destroy them.”

Weiss recoiled, and she felt the string wrapped around her pinky tighten to the point of pain. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t say much of anything in that moment. Did Blake really see their strange powers as a blessing? Weiss couldn’t understand how, but then again, that may be because all the threads had ever brought her and those around her was pain. 

“I won’t be a part of this.” Her voice was very quiet, so smooth it was almost gentle. “Do as you wish, but I will not be a player in these games.” She stood on shaky legs, slipping on a pair of flats and making her way out the door.

Blake smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and turned to the sisters who’d been watching the argument like a tennis match. Just as Weiss had begun to walk out of earshot, she heard Blake ask:

_“What do you know about the red string of fate?”_

* * *

It was a week after Blake told Yang and Ruby about the threads, that Weiss tried to cut them off.

Predictably, it didn't go very well. 

In all honesty, Weiss had hoped that it would work, if only because… well, who needs soulmates anyway? But it hadn’t worked, it hadn’t done much of anything at all. She knows it’s possible though, knows that there is absolutely a way for her to get rid of that string around her neck. (A noose more than a connection to someone, nowadays.) 

The first thing one should know about trying to snip the main string is that it is… _so_ very painful. Her fingertips were burned badly, the smell of burning flesh wafting into her nose when she had tried desperately to cut the strips of aura that so often constricted around her neck. Before she’d arrived at Beacon, she hadn’t known how hot the threads ran sometimes—able to burn you if you weren’t careful enough. 

The second thing to know about cutting the main string, it appeared as though you can’t cut your own, which Weiss thought was _extremely_ unfair. If her whole family legacy was that they could cut all the threads that bound people together, why exactly couldn’t they do it to themselves? Sure, this was discounting the fact that Weiss was able to keep off most of the strings that were drawn to her, but the fact that she couldn’t cut the one wrapped around her neck was… a shame. So how _would_ she manage to get rid of them, exactly? How would she move forward?

Weiss gripped at the string around her neck, tugging again and again and again—she’d failed to cut it a minute ago sure, but what if it would work now? Again and again and again—until tears burned in her eyes and she couldn’t move her fingers, _nothing_ was working. 

A cry of outrage threatened to flee from her lips, faltering only because a whimper of pain escaped first. Her nose had started to bleed again, and she had no choice but to press her sleeve to her face in an effort to stop the flow of blood. She wished that she could just use her aura, but she was hesitant to heal herself when the strings were so worked up.

Weiss lifted the palm she wasn't using, watching her burned fingers shake, and nearly threw up. She _knew_ that getting rid of the threads was possible, she’d _seen_ it done—but it appeared that no matter how hard she tired, no matter how desperately she pulled and tugged… she was stuck.

(She was trapped.)

Ruby is the one who finds her, curled up on the roof, staring blankly down at slowly healing hands. 

“What… What did you _do_?” Her voice is shaken, face pale as she rushed forward, taking Weiss’ hand in her own and staring with wide eyes at the very bad burns. She looked up, her eyes crinkling in sadness when she noticed the blood spread across her face.

Weiss’ stare is a little blank at first, surprise cementing her so thoroughly she doesn’t even protest when Ruby draws her closer. “I… Pardon?”

Ruby looked up at her, silver eyes shining with something unfamiliar. “Did it choke you again? Are you alright?”

Something constricted around her throat.

“No.” She managed to respond, wincing slightly. “I’m fine.”

Weiss wanted to curl in on herself, to hide away from the inquisitive gaze of her partner—from the clear sign of trust and something that looked like worry that framed her face. Why did Ruby look so nervous, anyway? It wasn’t as though this was something that could be avoided, it wasn't as though anything would change if she was kind to her, so why?

“These threads.” Ruby whispered, “Why do they hurt you?”

_Because of you._ A voice in the back of her mind whispered. _Because my thread is unreturned, because I will never be anything important to you._

“I don’t know.” Weiss said, looking away from Ruby. “My family… we’ve always had a rough time with these things, but this is the worst I’ve—” She pursed her lips, cutting herself off. Nothing would come of talking to Ruby like this, nothing would change, so why was she even bothering?

_Because you’ve grown fond despite yourself._ A voice in the back of her mind whispered, a poisonous thought. _Because being nearby has made it easier for you, and shouldn’t you know that you prefer to take the easy way out by now?_

“Oh, they’re healing now, thank goodness.” Ruby let out a sigh of relief, falling back from her crouch onto the floor—her body laying down on the ceiling of their dorm room. “That looked really bad, you know? I was super duper worried.”

“I see.” Weiss said, despite not seeing much of anything at all.

“Blake told us that you could see the strings too.” Ruby said after a quiet moment. “That yours were… different from the norm.” 

Weiss snorted, letting out an annoyed puff of air from her mouth. She leaned back on the short walls of the roof and looked up at the sky. It was a perfect day for cloud watching, had she wanted to. The swirls of puffy white helped calm her some, and she found herself wondering (despite all logic saying she was wrong) if they were really as soft as they looked.

“What did Blake tell you about me?” Weiss asked, her voice unusually weak. 

“Only that your strings are…” Ruby made a face, “Complicated.” 

“Not for long.” The words slip from her mouth, a quiet admission of what she planned to do. It wasn’t as though Ruby would know the context of what exactly she’d decided, but a worried look was tossed toward Weiss anyway. Weiss forced herself to turn her head away, pressing her sleeve down a tad harder on her bleeding nose.

“Have you found a way to fix the problem?”

“My sister.” Weiss admitted quietly. “I’m going to ask her to cut them off, she said that she was coming to visit soon, in about a month.” Her hands go to her neck, where a crimson string hangs, lazily wrapped around her throat. “I can’t do it myself.” 

Ruby shot up, her face going a little pale. “Blake said that the one around your neck was connected to _ all _ of them.”

Weiss hummed, fighting the urge to shrug, and looked back up to the clouds. 

“Was that what you were trying to do before I got here?” Ruby asked, and Weiss couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. “You were just going to cut them all _off_?”

“Well, I didn’t succeed.” Weiss pointed out. “So don’t bother worrying.”

“Don’t bother worrying!?” Ruby nearly shouted in disbelief. “I can’t just stop caring about you Weiss!”

She flinched, hugging her knees to her chest and hiding her face from Ruby’s stare. 

It was quiet, and through the silence Weiss felt so _small_. There was a shroud of exhaustion and plain and simple sadness that wrapped itself around her shoulders—a sharp stab of bitterness that infected her so entirely it was a surprise she didn’t turn green.

“What else did Blake tell you about my strings?” Weiss asked, voice muffled. “About who they’re tied to?”

Ruby frowned, scooting forward so her knees were brushing Weiss’ own. She copied her body language, wrapping her arms around her legs and hugging them to her chest. “She said that they were the same as hers.” Ruby explained. “Except for maybe one or two, she wasn’t exactly specific.” 

“Did she tell you who hers were tied to?”

“No.” Ruby admitted with a snort. “But it wasn’t exactly hard to guess, Yang right? They’ve been making weird moon eyes at each other since Blake revealed the truth.” She wrinkled her nose, a slightly cute expression on her face. “Yang likes Blake, you know? She was afraid to make a move because you and Blake seemed close, no matter how many times I told her that you didn’t like each other like that.” 

Weiss couldn’t help the small bark of laughter that escaped her mouth at the thought. She quickly tried to cover her mouth, but it failed to hold back the desperate giggles that escaped her throat. “Blake and I?” Weiss asked, “Yang thought that Blake and I—?” She laughed again.

“Yikes, did that actually hurt you?” Ruby winced, gesturing to her body as it shook with mirth. “Well, at least I was right.” 

She nodded, not being able to hold back a smile as she flipped a bit of hair out of her face. “Why in dust did she think that?”

Ruby shrugged, looking sheepish and turning to look away. “You guys _did_ sneak off together a lot, though now we know it was just to keep you from getting too badly hurt.” 

Weiss hummed, rubbing at her mouth. “Wow.” 

“I know.”

“_Wow_.”

“I _know_.” Ruby shot back playfully.

It was quiet suddenly, the two of them smiling at each other through the spots between their knees. Weiss was struck with the realization that Ruby was actually really _pretty_, it was strange—just how out of the blue her perception altered. 

Her face was a tad round, no doubt because she was still a little younger than them all, her eyes crinkled as she beamed back at Weiss, her cheeks creased with dimples. Her smile was broad, unrestrained—her lips wrapping around it like they were meant to, and knowing Ruby now, they probably were. There was a beauty mark on the left side of her chin and under her right eye, a handful of odd freckles on her jawline that led down to her neck. 

And then there were her eyes. 

Weiss found that she almost couldn’t describe them, almond shaped and sparkling—the way that they seemed to shine like mirrors—a subtle draw to them that had Weiss staring like an idiot, unable to quite tear her eyes away. Was this what it felt like? She wondered, to see something as beautiful as art come to life? It was as though the stars lived in them, lived in the silvery pool—Ruby’s own little private night sky. 

(Wait, were eyes actually supposed to look like that? As though they held the light of a god, as though they were a beacon to shine upon others—whether it be kindness or something more sinister? Weiss didn’t think so, didn’t think that someone’s eyes were supposed to be so beautiful.)

The weight of the moonlight in her eyes was crushing, but Weiss couldn’t find herself looking away.

Ruby blinked in surprise after a few quiet moments, and Weiss noticed that she had not been the only one staring. She turned her face away, flushing a deep red, and the stirring of fondness in Weiss’ chest was downright _criminal_. Ruby Rose was pretty. She thought mournfully. As pretty as the petals in her name, as pretty as the shattered moon on a clear thought, she was just so very _pretty_. 

Honestly, Ruby Rose being _this_ attractive was hardly fair.

“Are we friends now?” Ruby asked. “I thought we were before but…” She hugged her knees tighter to her chest, gripping tightly at her red and black skirt. “I don’t know if you felt the same.” 

“I… I’ve never had many real friends.” Weiss revealed quietly.

“Well, now you have me!” Ruby proclaimed loudly, her smile spreading so widely it was a wonder it didn’t fall off of her face. Weiss blinked for a moment, reeling back a moment at the absolute earnestness in her tone—Ruby, apparently noting her surprise, blushed furiously, and hurriedly opened her mouth to add, “Uh, and Blake and Yang, and probably all of team JNPR too!”

Weiss fought the urge to frown. “I suppose I do.”

“Hey, Weiss?” Ruby asked hesitantly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Now that we’re friends can I ask you something?” She fidgeted, slumping in on herself slightly, as though she were afraid to ask.

“...I suppose.” Weiss said, simply because she didn’t want Ruby to be afraid to ask her anything. (Even if she didn’t intend on answering her question.)

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to cut your strings?” Ruby started hesitantly, meeting Weiss’ eyes slowly. “I mean, think about it—they connect us all, right? Connect the bonds that we make? If you were to get rid of them—”

“Ruby.” Weiss said quietly. “If I can’t get these things under control, I probably will never be able to accomplish any of the things I want to do.”

“I—what?”

“They strike at random times.” She said, rising to her feet and stretching—making sure to look away. “I’d be a liability at best, a weakness at worst.”

“But—” Ruby frowned, standing up too. “But this is your—”

“This is my future.” Weiss said back to her, words a little cold. “In the face of what I have planned, what I _will_ do, nothing is more important.”

Ruby stared, her eyes roaming her face with such intensity that Weiss fought the urge to shift uncomfortably. 

_Please stop looking_.

“Okay.” Ruby mumbled, deflating a little and looking away. “In the end it’s your choice.” She fiddled with her cape, backing up from Weiss. “I just… I just hope that you’ll consider all your options before going through with it.”

Weiss grimaced.

Something told her it wouldn’t be as easy as Ruby made it sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha i'm so tired


	3. wish that i wasn't quite so torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from 'better for me' by fake laugh

Weiss knew that life would be different without her strings. She knew that she would have to prepare for when she managed to convince her sister to cut them—knew that she would feel a disconnect from the world around her. Though the consequences of her decision may bring about droves of unintended isolation, Weiss can’t seem to find that a bad thing. She might miss Blake and Pyrrha, sure, and perhaps even Yang and Ruby—but there was a certain safety in not being tied to them.

Perhaps it was just her cynicism, but Weiss was sure that the loss of the depth of the relationships with them within her would be… no easy, exactly, but something she could overcome. She’d been isolated for years, only having Whitley and Klein to depend on for company, and she’d come out of that just fine.

Ruby, for some odd reason, insisted on keeping Weiss’ intent a secret. 

“Don’t get me wrong.” She had said, sounding surprisingly stern. “You _should_ tell Blake and Yang about what you’re going to do, but it’s your decision—so _you_ should be the one to break the news.”

Weiss, a little amused, had agreed with her. She was thankful that Ruby hadn’t decided to go around blabbing about their talk on the roof. But as a day turned into a week, and a week turned into two with Weiss having no intention of saying anything, it appeared as though Ruby was going, for lack of better term, a little stir crazy.

Despite how entertaining it was to have Ruby shoot her meaningful looks and then puff out her cheeks when they went by ignored, Weiss couldn’t help but feel the slightest… reluctant, she supposed was the right word. Talking to people clearly wasn’t her forte, as was made clear by nearly every interaction she had with literally anyone at Beacon.

Well, that was excluding Pyrrha, but she was an angel and willing to pretend she didn’t notice how monumentally socially awkward Weiss tended to be… except for the occasional teasing glance or wry smile.

Now that she thought about it, Pyrrha actually tended to playfully poke fun at most of their shared friends, Weiss just hadn’t really noticed because she really, _really_ liked Pyrrha, and probably overlooked a lot of things she wouldn’t when it came to other people. Seriously, when all her strings were gone, she’d probably miss the gentle atmosphere that came with conversing with her… hopefully it would remain after she was de-threaded, but Weiss sincerely doubted it.

Which, though she was reluctant to admit it, _did_ actually bring up some concerns.

She’d seen the process done before, had heard the stories and read the angsty tragedies that circulated the strings like moths drawn to flame, but there was no possible way she would know what she was _actually_ getting herself into. Afterall, a lot of people who’d lost their strings were reluctant to share their experiences with just anybody, and most of them didn’t seem to care much for the plights of others—that didn’t even begin to approach the fact that a lot of the people who didn’t have them, didn’t _know_ they didn’t have them. 

Her first thought was that some thread bearers must be real assholes.

(Which made Weiss extremely suspicious, she knew that her family magic enabled her to cut them, but was it possible there were more like her? Or more like Blake? Those who could cut bonds and tie them together? Was it possible that there were people out there who could manipulate the bonds in different ways? Strengthen or weaken them without destroying them? The implications drove Weiss mad.)

Not to mention there was still a good chunk of the overall population who didn’t even _believe_ in the strings. She couldn’t imagine someone who could see the strings coming up to a random person and saying, “By the way you don’t have any soulmates,” going well. 

“You’re overthinking it.” Blake said when she broached the topic with her.

Weiss huffed, and promptly responded that Blake was _under thinking_ it.

Which led to a debate about the relevance of threads that had the two of them nearly arguing for three hours straight, which Weiss would have won—if not for the fact that Ruby and Yang had interrupted them to drag them into two separate corners, Weiss into the dorm hallway and Blake near the window of their room.

“Why were you two even fighting?” Ruby asked with a sigh, crossing her arms and staring down at her. 

Weiss fought the irrational urge to shrink under her gaze. Ruby wasn’t taller than her when she was wearing her heels, but Weiss had put on flats today—making everyone seem to look at her as though she’d grown a second head. (Which was _rude_, she just hadn’t been in the mood for heels, it wasn’t as though she was suddenly being _nice_ to everyone or something.)

“It wasn’t a fight.” She protested. “We were debating about the implications of strings and the way they affect day to day life—she wouldn’t cough up _any_ information, wouldn’t even tell me what her family told her, it was _annoying_.”

“Annoying?” Ruby asked, beginning to look amused. “You say that about everything.”

“I do not!” She snapped back, more defensive than anything else. “I just wanted to know! If these useless evil things are going to be a part of my life then I think I ought to _know_ about them.” As though they’d heard her, the threads constricted a little, slithering around her body and making her twitch in discomfort.

“Well.” Ruby tilted her head, a bit of oddly colored hair falling into her eyes. “Why do you care?”

“What?”

“I just mean, well.” Ruby looked a tad flustered, as though she was struggling to find the words. “If you aren’t gonna keep the strings then what’s the point of knowing about them?”

“Just because I won’t have them doesn’t mean I won’t _see_ them.” Weiss pointed out with a huff, crossing her arms and looking away. “Doesn’t mean I won’t be able to _touch_ them.”

“I’ve been wondering about that actually.” Ruby rubbed at her jawline. “I mean, you can touch them without cutting them, right? I mean, can you pull on them or something? Or maybe mess around with them?”

“I _can_ pull on them.” Weiss admitted hesitantly, “But I can't mess with them, I know that there were stories of people who could knot strings that already existed and were connected to someone else together, and I know that Blake can actively _make_ more, but I don’t know much else.”

“How does Blake know more than you, anyway?” Ruby asked, scrunching her nose a little. “I mean, where did she learn all this stuff? It can’t be from books, ‘cause _you’ve_ been tearing up the library and found pretty much nothing.”

Weiss stilled. She didn’t like the implication that Ruby had noticed her lack of success in obtaining knowledge, and she liked the fact that she was _asking_ about it even less. “It's… complicated.” She mumbled disagreeably. “It’s not as though it’s a secret, how she knows, but I don't like talking about it—if you want, you can ask her instead. I’m sure she’d tell you.”

Ruby pouted. “I _would_, but I’m pretty sure she and Yang are… uh.” She jerked her head toward the dorm door, closed. “I think they locked the door when I dragged us out of there.”

“Ew.” Weiss grimaced. “We’re literally _right outside_.”

“Don’t ask me.” Ruby mirrored her expression. “I don’t understand how she could find _Yang_ attractive after living in the same room with her for a couple of months.”

“Your sister does tend to snore.” Weiss admitted, shooting a dark look at the closed door. “Well, I suppose I’m off to find Pyrrha then.” Earlier she’d found that her friend was actually interested in the strings despite not being able to see them herself and had a book that she’d let Weiss borrow that talked about them.

It was too bad that most of the information in it was things that Weiss already knew, but it was nice to have some affirmations about them besides Blake’s word.

“Aw, what? C’mon let’s make it a partner bonding day!” Ruby beamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Weiss blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. “Partner… bonding… day?”

“Yeah!” Ruby bounded closer to her, gripping her hands and tugging her forward so that they were looking each other in the eye. “It’ll be fun! I’ll prove it to you.”

Weiss fought the urge to make a face. She hadn’t really spent much time with Ruby alone since the whole roof thing and she had to return that book she borrowed from Pyrrha—but, well.

(Ruby looked so excited.)

“I suppose.” Weiss said hesitantly after a moment. “I can’t exactly return to Pyrrha empty handed, and I am _not_ willing to sacrifice my eyesight.” She sort of despised the fact that she’d forgotten to grab her bag as Ruby was dragging her out of her room.

Ruby grinned, dragging her forward. “Partner bonding day! Partner bonding day!” She cheered, singing out the words and humming so loudly that Weiss almost flinched away from her.

_Oh no_, Weiss though morosely, just what had she gotten herself into?

It wasn’t actually as bad as she feared it to be. 

That did not mean it wasn’t bad, Ruby wanted to play… video games? Weiss wasn’t very good at them, which annoyed her into making Ruby play over and over again until she managed to beat her once, though she was sure Ruby had gone easy on her in the last one.

So, partner bonding day... _yay_.

* * *

Her sister refused. There isn’t much to say on that front, isn’t much to add to the fact that her sister had refused to cut her strings. Winter had an odd look in her eye throughout their interactions with each other, more knowing than usual—as though she’d come to a conclusion that Weiss hadn’t figured out yet. It was annoying. It did not help, of course, that Winter Schnee was suddenly very invested in her problems with the strings. The look on her face made her a tad nauseous, why did her sister even want to know about this if she refused to help her?

These strings were a curse, a plague set upon Weiss everytime she looked at someone who was bonded to her. How was she supposed to live like this, like she was some sort of loveless victim of an attack she didn't know the origin of? How was she supposed to go throughout her life, one that depended on a clear head and lack of strings trying to snuff out her existence, if Winter refused to even think about helping her out?

The fact that Winter wanted to meet them, her team, made it almost infinitely worse. Weiss steeled herself however, and took this as a chance to show her sister how badly the strings would react, hopefully she’d understand when she’d seen how Ruby’s string and hers had nothing to do with each other.

“Winter.” Weiss nodded toward her, crossing her arms and doing her best not to hunch in on herself. “This is… everyone.”

They were in an empty classroom, Winter had wanted the meeting to be as private as possible and Weiss (who genuinely did not care where it happened) decided that using Professor Port’s room when he wasn’t using it wasn’t a bad idea. 

(She did ask for permission first, though, she wasn’t a heathen.)

“That actually depends.” Blake interjected. “Does your sister want to know who your strings are tied to, or just your teammates? Because someone’s missing if the first one is the case.”

“Oh, really?” Yang asked curiously. “Who?”

“You haven’t told them yet?” Blake asked, looking a little put out before turning back to face Yang. “It’s Pyrrha.”

“_Nikos_?” Yang asked, blinking in surprise. “Really?”

“Who else do we know is named Pyrrha?” Blake said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“Babe, you know I _love_ it when you're feisty but we’re in the presence of the elder Schnee right now.” Yang gestured to Winter, shooting Blake a lecherous wink.

Ruby groaned out loud, burying her head in her hands. “_Please_ stop flirting, Yang, I can’t take it anymore.” She looked up to meet Weiss’ eyes. “They’ve been at it all day, sometimes I think they do it on purpose just to make me feel gross.”

“Ah, sorry Rubes.” Yang said, running a hand through her hair sheepishly, doing her best to sound genuine.

“No you’re not.” Weiss scoffed, leaning back against a desk.

“No I’m not.” Yang admitted shamelessly.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you.” Blake said, turning to finally face Winter. “Weiss talks about you a lot.”

“No I don’t.” She protested.

“_Yes_ you do.” Yang added with a teasing smile.

Ruby frowned, looking confused. “She does?”

“A handful of times, but Weiss never talks about anybody so the fact that she’s mentioned her older sister a lot is like…” Blake trailed off for a moment, looking for the right word. “Crazy.”

“Babe, are you feeling okay?” Yang asked, her tone overly concerned. “You didn’t flex your vocabulary this time.” 

“Yang.” One of Blake’s eyes twitched.

“Sorry, sorry.” Yang said appeasingly, despite the fact that she didn’t look very sorry at all.

“Um, anyway, it really is nice to meet you…” Ruby seemed to panic suddenly, her face going a little pink. “Um, Ms. Schnee? Madam Schnee? Weiss’ big sis?” She shot Weiss a desperate look, and something in her chest squeezed uncomfortably.

She could understand why Ruby was so nervous, the look that Winter was giving her (eyes narrowed, mouth puckered) was often used to make the cadets of the Atlas military cry. It wasn't like Weiss could blame Winter, after all, the last time the sisters had encountered an unrequited string had been... something.

“Just call her by her name Ruby, you’re going to give yourself an aneurysm otherwise.” Weiss sighed lethargically, trying not to let her emotions show on her face while she examined the flesh under her nails. She shot Ruby a comforting look, trying to get her to calm down with a small smile despite her obvious exasperation.

It seemed to do the trick, because Ruby was suddenly relaxing, her expression softening from the obvious nervousness that had been there before. It made something in Weiss' chest twitch uncomfortably, and she forced herself to look away.

“Ah, okay!” Ruby grinned broadly, turning to face Winter and beaming invitingly. “It’s nice to meet you, Winter! I’m Ruby Rose.”

“Yang Xiao Long.” Blake pointed to Yang.

“Blake Belladonna.” Yang pointed to Blake.

“And I’m about ready to kill myself.” Weiss muttered under her breath, making Blake snicker.

“A pleasure.” Winter greeted, a tight smile on her face as she watched the way the threads wrapped around them all. 

“Doubtful.” Weiss said snidely.

Winter shut her eyes, gathering herself for a moment. “Sister, _please_.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Weiss mumbled. 

“Why must you always insist on insulting my intelligence?” Winter turned toward her, not quite glaring but staring with such disappointment in her eyes for a moment Weiss feared that she might fall over from the weight of it all.

“That depends, why do _you_ always insist on not taking me at my word?” She shot back, ignoring the strange churning in her stomach that came with talking back to her sister. “I’ve told you the problem, and you see it for yourself, so why won’t you _listen_ to me?”

“There are other ways.” Winter insisted.

“Oh?” Weiss raised a brow, spinning to face her sister full on. “Name _one_.”

Despite herself, a bit of hope bubbled up in her chest. Her sister might know what to do, might know how to fix things without causing Weiss immeasurable pain. _Winter will know._ A voice in the back of her head whispered. _Winter will know._

“I…” Winter paused, a conflicted expression on her face.

Something in her tone crushed Weiss to the bone.

“That’s what I thought.” She said, not quite keeping the contempt out of her voice, she looked down at her shoes, not being able to stomach the look on her sister’s face for much longer.

“Have you ever considered how it might affect you long term?” Winter started, sounding far too much like an adult chastising a child for Weiss to be very comfortable with her.

“Oh _no_ Winter I just assumed I’d go hopping right along— _Of course_ I’ve considered it!” Weiss snapped back, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Honestly i’m not a _child_.”

“You are certainly acting like one.” Winter retorted.

“Um. Should we go?” Ruby interrupted before the sister could get to arguing more. “I mean, this seems like a… family thing, unless you want us to stay with you Weiss, because I’ll stay if you want—”

Weiss winced, swallowing as the thread around her throat tightened.

“Yeah, you’re not doing that Rubles.” Yang set a hand on her sister’s shoulder, patting her heartily. “It’s getting kinda _chilly_ here, we don’t want to be around when everything _freezes_ over.”

“Yang, please.” Blake shot her partner a long suffering look.

“Sorry, babe.” Yang apologized, once again not looking very apologetic at all.

“We can wait outside if you want us to, Weiss.” Ruby said, very clearly not willing to leave Weiss totally on her own. “Just say the word and we’ll do it.”

She could feel Winter’s eyes watching, scrutinizing the way they reacted to each other, the way her threads enveloped her further.

“It’s…” Weiss choked a little, trying not to reveal the fact that it was getting harder to breathe. “It’s fine Ruby.”

“It clearly isn’t.” Blake interjected. “What are you two arguing about anyway?”

“Snip, snip.” It came out of Weiss’ mouth like a reflex, the voice not quite her own.

“Oh… in that case we aren’t going anywhere.” Blake suddenly looked very determined but sounding very annoyed. “I thought you said you were going to consider it first.”

“I _have_ considered it.” Weiss shot back. “Nothing good comes from these little _parasites_.”

(There was something loaded about her words, a hidden meaning that no one but the Schnee sisters would understand.)

Winter looked distinctly uncomfortable, recognizing the look on her sisters face. “You can’t still be blaming yourself for that Weiss, honestly it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know—”

“Does it matter?” Weiss glared, “It happened, that’s all there is to it.”

“He doesn’t blame—” Winter faltered for a moment after seeing the expression that Weiss was wearing. “Okay so he _might_ blame you—”

“You aren’t helping, Winter.” Weiss crossed her arms. “Besides, I don’t want to talk about that.”

Winter sighed, a look of exhaustion on her face so telling that Weiss almost recoiled. 

Why was it that her sister was so tired? What had she been doing before this? Weiss couldn’t think of anything that would make Winter look that way, not really. She looked down, eyeing the silver tinged string that connected her to her sister with a wary look. It was… weaker than before, a strange observation that made her frown. 

“I…” Winter closed her eyes. “I’m here for… a couple more days if you want to visit.” She shook her head, making her way toward the door. “It was nice to see you, little sister, despite what you might think of me.”

“Yes well.” Weiss crossed her arms, feeling snide and angry. “I can’t exactly say the same.”

Winter laughed, a hollow sound, and left the classroom.

“Can we not talk about this?” Weiss asked before Blake could say anything. “I’m… a little…”

“I get it.” Blake said, though her eyes still narrowed. “We _will_ be talking about this later.”

“What she said.” Yang agreed, “Rubes and I may be new to this whole ‘bonded’ thing, but I think that we deserve to know a little about what’s going on.”

Ruby stayed silent, though her gaze was solemn and serious.

Weiss winced. She was _not_ looking forward to that talk.

* * *

Weiss meets Sun Wukong in the library. Well, she _officially_ meets him. She’d seen him around of course, in the company of Blake and Yang more often than nought, and hadn’t really been super interested in talking to him herself.

It isn’t anything special at first, her and her team playing some board game that the disaster twins (Ruby and Yang) had insisted they all play together. Weiss had been suffering the entire time, not invested enough to pick up the rules of the game but not uninterested enough to be alright with losing as bad as she was.

“Hey, Blake!” A masculine voice cheered from over her shoulder.

It took all of Weiss’ self control not to jump at his sudden experience. She whirled around, fixing him with the nastiest glare she could muster. Only for her stomach to drop inexplicably when she found him already curiously looking down at her. 

The boy was tall, far taller than her, with spiky golden hair and bright blue eyes. He had a strong jaw, with rounded boyish features, and had that sort of look about him that her father instantly would have disapproved of. His shirt was open, a curious looking necklace dangling on in front of his chest, rolled up pants and sneakers making him look more casual than anyone else in the library. 

He beamed when he noticed her looking. “Hi, you must be Weiss! I’m Sun Wukong.”

She despised him instantly.

(More like she despised the fact that his string went for one of hers like something out of a horror movie, quick and unexpected and making her jump away from him, all semblance of control thrown out the metaphorical window. The string was wrapped around his stomach, tightening around her own chest in such a display of strength that for a moment it was hard to breathe. )

“Ah.” Blake said, blinking slowly as a smirk began to grow on her face. “Well I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Huh?” Sun asked, looking confused, tilting his head like a golden retriever. 

Weiss gripped at her chest, unable to stop a grimace. “_Ow_.” She complained, scowling. “That actually _hurt_.”

“When _don’t_ yours hurt you?” Blake asked mischievously, setting down her cards and getting up to give Sun a brief hug. 

“What are we talking about?” He asked, returning the hug—his eyes returning to linger on Weiss for a moment longer than before.

She wrinkled her nose, tugging at the string around her chest. “Oh no.” She began morosely.

“Hmm?” Sun asked.

“I think we have to be _friends_.” Weiss buried her face in her hands. “Ugh.”

“You’re funny, dude.” He laughed, “But I agree! We can be the best of friends! We should come up with a secret handshake, oh! Or maybe like a catchphrase, or maybe nicknames or something!”

Weiss groaned, too tired to really refuse him. And also for some strange reason his string wasn’t… actively _malevolent_—the others were squirming on her body constantly, constricting and reminding her of their presence on their best days. But Sun’s just… _wasn’t_, as strange as it sounded. Well, there was no point in shooing him away, not only was his thread strong enough to make it pain to remove, but Weiss was too tired to really bother to try and refuse the bond.

Winter had refused to cut them for her, a fact that still made her angry and upset with everything around her, but there was no point in not being friendly. (Well, as friendly as Weiss could get anyway.) She decided to throw caution to the wind, perhaps Sun Wukong would be a good friend, perhaps he wouldn't—but what was the point of it all if she didn't even bother to try and find out?

Blake seemed to realize this too, if the melting of her smirk into a much softer smile was any indication.

Weiss looked up at Sun. “It’s nice to meet you.” She hedged uncertainty.

He beamed. It was a strange look on his face—it wasn’t as though it was unnatural or anything, more like it was perfectly at home. She’d never really met anyone like that, a person who had such a capability to appear as though they always had a smile on their face, it was a strange thing, and if she was being honest it unnerved her slightly.

(Sure, most of the people she'd managed to make friends with at Beacon had kind smiles, but there was something about Sun that made most of them obsolete. The only one that even came close to his radiance was Ruby's, and hers was nice to look at for a different reason then Suns was.)

But she couldn’t quite help the way her expression softened, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded at him, saying nothing more. 

From the corner of her eye, Yang and Ruby exchanged odd looks. 

“Hi, Sun!” Ruby interjected after a moment, looking slightly confused. 

“Hey little Rubles.” He leaned on the table, his smile going a tad crooked. “Your sister isn’t giving you too much trouble lately is she?”

“Excuse you I am an _angel_.” Yang protested.

“You really aren’t.” Weiss sighed, leaning on the palm of her hand and looking up at Sun. She scrutinized him for a moment, her eyes lingering on the string between them. 

It was strong, pale gold—different from Yang’s burning brightness. It was strange that it seemed so… _calm_, even Pyrrha’s (who was by far the easiest person to talk to) wasn’t quite as mellow as his. It made Weiss, for lack of better word, curious. 

“So, Wukong,” She began slowly, eyeing him for a moment. “What do you think about this board game?”

“Um.” He frowned down at the cards and the pieces. “Looks… not fun.” He fiddled with one of the pieces. “Is that supposed to be Vacuo?”

“Perfect.” She stood abruptly, ignoring the strange looks she received, “Let’s go do something else.”

“Okay!” He agreed cheerfully, following her as she escaped from the library before pausing. “Wait, do you wanna come Blake?”

“No thank you.” Blake refused, sending them both a soft smile. “You two have fun.”

And so began her friendship with Sun Wukong. They had fun, surprisingly, they walked around Vale and talked. He didn’t seem to mind the fact that she tended to complain, and she didn’t mind indulging his more unorthodox ideas. It was strange, how compatible they were, and throughout the day their string seemed to be growing stronger and stronger, something Weiss didn’t know was actually _possible_.

Could it be that the strings could change _positively_ depending on the relationship the subjects had? She’d known about the negative aspect of what would happen to the strings if your companionship with the other person diminished, the string she cut from Blake proved that. She had to admit, the fact that she hadn’t considered the positive effects was incredibly short sighted of her, and she couldn’t help but dwell on what she was going to do. 

When Weiss returned to her dorm (after giving Sun a high five in lieu of a hug) she was surprised to find her teammates all waiting for her. Blake looked happy, at least, contrasting the matching expressions of pure confusion that lingered on Yang and Ruby’s faces. 

“Hello—” She was cut off by Blake hurrying forward, the smile on her face disarming Weiss. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her so excited for something that didn’t have to do with books or Yang.

“How did it go? As good as I think it did? Your strings are _really_ relaxed—” It was true, the threads around her body weren’t so constricting as usual, floaty and round without wrapping their way painfully around her. It was nice.

Weiss felt herself smile.

Blake paused, her eyes examining Weiss’ expression. “I’m happy for you.” The relief in her voice was extremely apparent. “I was worried, I knew that you two were going to be bonded closely as soon as your strings touched, but I was scared that it might react to you as negatively as the others.”

“It was fine.” She said, her voice soft. “He’s very kind.”

A cough interrupted them both, and they turned to see Yang and Ruby standing, though mostly Yang.

She seemed to be frowning, an incredulous look on her face, and she gestured to Weiss as though she couldn’t hear her. “Yo what the actual _fuck_ is up with Ice Queen?”

Blake blinked for a moment, before interjecting cautiously. “It’s her business, Yang.”

Yang pinched the bridge of her nose, releasing a sigh and turning away. “Fine, fine I won’t ask.” Yang shot Weiss a strange look. “It’s hella weird seeing you smile, Ice Queen…” She paused. “It’s a nice look though, I approve.”

“Approve?” Ruby asked, looking as confused as Weiss felt.

“Well, Sun’s one of your soulmates right?” Yang asked, glancing at her sister for a moment before returning to Weiss. “Like, is he the main one?” She gestured to her neck.

“Er… no.” Weiss explained, pressing a hand to her chest. “He’s important, sure, but he isn’t…” She looked down, trailing off and gently brushing her fingers against the thread around her chest. It hummed, a soft thrumm ringing through the air.

“Sun is important to Weiss not because of the location of the string, but because of how strong it is.” Blake explained. “It indicates how compatible they are for each other, whether it’s platonic or not, they just… understand each other, I guess, or they have the potential _to_ understand each other.” Blake thought for a moment. “Every relationship is different.”

“Yeah, plus Weiss has already found her main string person.” Ruby explained.

Weiss froze and Blake let out a soft hiss.

How… How was it possible that Ruby knew that? The question sent a cold shiver of fear down her spine, her previous good mood forgotten. The string around her neck constricted, a deadly reminder of everything she had been trying to forget. Weiss closed her eyes, trying not to hyperventilate, there was _no way_ that Ruby knew that Weiss was connected to her like that, there was no way at all. 

“How did you know that?” Blake asked, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Well I mean, it’s obvious right? Weiss has injuries from the places where bonded strings… uh, hurt her.” Ruby looked a little uncomfortable. “Her neck was really messed up that last time, remember?”

“Oh?” Yang suddenly looked mischievous. “Keeping a secret soulmate from us?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t you trust me? I promise not to tease you too much, scouts honor.”

“The main string isn’t always romantic Yang.” Blake said, a tad exasperated. “It’s the most volatile out of all the threads so it always has an impact on the rest of them—”

Yang’s smile melted off of her face.

“—consider Coco and Fox, their strings are tied together but they’re _obviously_ not romantically involved, anyone with eyes can tell that Coco is all the way in love with Velvet—”

“Wait.” Yang said, a frown apparent on her features. “Does that mean whoever’s connected to Weiss like that has been _causing_ all of this mess?”

That was the moment that Blake and Weiss began to panic in earnest. 

“_No_—”

“That’s absolutely _not_—”

“Don’t lie.” This was Ruby, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder, her face unreadable. “I get that this is hard to talk about, but if you’re going to try and lie then _don’t_—just say you don’t want to tell us.”

Weiss winced, her fingers twitching upwards as she fought the urge for her hands to go to her neck. The thread around her chest warmed, not uncomfortably hot like the rest of them seemed to run, but soft and gentle—slowly the warmth spread throughout more of her strings, to Pyrrha’s and Blake’s and Yang’s, settling against the turmoil that was the rope wrapped around her neck.

“Weiss…?” Blake started, voice shaky. “What did you _do_?”

“Why is it always something _I_ did?” Weiss’ voice was weak, the glare on her face brittle. “I don’t understand this—” She gestured to herself, to the strings, “—I don’t understand _any_ of it!”

“It’s glowing—” Blake said, “I’ve never seen it _glow_—”

It was, the one around her chest, it was glowing a pale gold—seeping into the rest and keeping them from doing… something. It was such a strange sight to behold, the bright yellow and the purple and the reds beginning to have a pale gold undertone. Why… Why was it doing that? Weiss was so confused, she barely even _knew_ Sun, they’d only spent _one_ day together and he had the potential to _that_? 

There is something to be said about the strings. They wrap themselves in the lives of people, of everyone who lives and breathes and loves—and they don’t go away without the intervention of outside forces, of people with emotions like anger and jealousy and spite. So, the implication of that, of the fact that _anyone_ has the potential to love someone else, that there are people in a person's life that has the potential to change the way they think and feel and smile… It’s almost beautiful.

So why was it that these beautiful things, these painfully gorgeous glowing strings, have decided to treat her so cruelly?

(And why was it that, after fully embracing one of the potential relationships she had, they decided to allow her some reprieve?)

“Oh.” Weiss said, looking down at her hands. “I don’t like the implications that come with this.” Because she didn’t, embracing the relationships around her? What would come of that but the endless amounts of heartbreak that she’d already foreseen?

“What do you mean?” Blake asked, frowning, and it’s a bit of a surprise to Weiss that she hadn’t pieced it together yet. “Do you have any ideas, Weiss?”

She said nothing to her in response, running her fingers idly up and down her strings, allowing herself to reach out and touch the one around her neck.

It’s cold.

“We still don’t know what’s going on, just wanted to point that out.” Yang interjected, gesturing to herself and Ruby. “Like, can you please tell us what the hell is going on?”

“Yeah, um… don’t mean to be rude but can we be clued in, just a little?” Ruby asked, fidgeting awkwardly, “I mean, we don’t have your magical sight thingy or whatever.”

“It’s…” Weiss thought for a moment, looking up to meet the eyes of her teammates. Would it be a step in the right direction to reveal what she’d discovered? Yes, probably. “...complicated, I think I’ve found an alternate way to… fix the problem.” She grimaced. “Oh no.”

“What?” Yang asked, looking far more worried than Weiss had expected her to.

Blake watched her for a moment, before she pieced it together. “Oh that’s hilarious.” 

“Fate has a cruel sense of humor.” Weiss snapped back, hunching in on herself a little, wrapping her arms around her stomach. 

“I’m not fighting you on that.” Blake said with a snort. “Good luck, Weiss, I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

Indeed she was. Weiss had never been good at ‘acceptance’ at the idea that she had to just… let go of all the things that were holding her down in this case. What was she going to do, anyway? Make friends with everyone her string tied to? With Sun she had accepted him right away, quicker than she had with anyone else, and so was that why his string was so… kind?

A sick churning in her stomach knocked her out of her thoughts. How was she even going to do this? Yang, Blake, and Pyrrha might be easy (well, maybe not easy but _easier_)—at least she knew where she stood with them. But Ruby was the outlier, the unknown in this equation.

It was going to be… difficult.

“Hey you guys can, um… can we get an explanation?” Ruby asked, crossing her arms and looking a tad put out. “I don’t like it when you guys keep secrets from us, we’re supposed to be a _team_, you know?”

“Weiss, I think it’s best if you explain.” Blake turned to her. “It might help your… predicament.”

She scowled. “I have to make friends.”

Yang blinked, then promptly burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, are you actually joking right now?” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Not only is that impossible for you, sorry Ice Queen you’re kind of unsociable, but the fact that all this shit has been happening because you haven’t been friendly is absolutely the worst kind of karma—you can’t expect us to believe that, right?”

“I’m not joking.” Weiss looked away. “I hate the soulbonds, and apparently the parasitic little monsters have decided that I shouldn't.”

Yang stopped laughing, hiccuping a little but managing to school her expression into something more serious. “Does your hatred… like, since you don’t like the string dealies, does that mean you don’t like _us_ either?”

Weiss sighed. “I don’t hate you, Xiao Long.” But she didn’t exactly like her either, she didn’t exactly like much of _anyone_, but that was a _Weiss_ thing, not a soulmate thing.

“I suppose it is a little hard for you to enjoy our company anyway.” Blake pointed out with a curious look. “You don’t really… what’s the word?”

“Vibe?” Yang recommended.

“_Ugh_.” Blake crossed her arms. “You don’t really _vibe_ with most people anyway, so add on the additional stress of the soulbonds and you get—”

“A grumpy asshole.” Yang interjected again.

“Not how I would’ve put it, but you aren’t wrong.” Blake admitted with a shrug, flicking Yang on the nose before turning back to face Weiss. “I guess you might need to take that sensitivity class afterall, Sun’s taking it too you know, you’ll have company.”

“_Sun_ needs to take a sensitivity class?” Ruby asked, an adorably confused expression on her face. “But he’s actually _nice_.”

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?” Weiss' voice was indignant, a scowl on her face despite the fact that she understood where Ruby was coming from. (Just because she could get that not everyone thought she was a super soft and kind person didn't mean she had to _like_ it.)

Everyone ignored her.

“Well, just ‘cause Sun’s a cool dude doesn’t mean he doesn’t have problems understanding people.” Yang explained, leaning over and hip checking her younger sister. “Think about it like this, you don’t get when people are sarcastic, right? Well Sun doesn’t get the boundaries people have with each other.” Then she winked at Weiss. “And our very own Snow Angel over here doesn’t get why people are nice to each other.”

“Shut your mouth.” Weiss snarled.

She once again was ignored.

“Do you understand now?” Blake asked.

“I guess.” Ruby said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “But I just don’t get why Weiss has to be nicer to us, I mean she’s _Weiss_—she isn’t always a super nice person, but she always has our back in a fight and she always makes sure that everyone has everything they need, so what if she’s a little… er…”

“Mean?” Yang recommended. 

“Bitchy?” Blake asked.

“Well.” Ruby huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “You didn’t have to put it like _that_.”

Blake and Yang shared a laugh, leaning into each other on Blake’s bed and giving each other high fives. 

“But anyway.” Ruby turned to Weiss, an oddly serious look on her face. “You know we care about you, right? Despite all your prickliness, you’re my _partner_—and you're their _teammate_, and that means something to all of us, get it?”

Weiss fought the urge to curl in on herself. “I’ll try.”

“Good!” Ruby said, smiling happily. “Now let’s go sign you up for that sensitivity class!”

Weiss fought the urge to scowl harder. She knew that she'd have to make nice but the fact that she had to take a _class_ for it was positively humiliating. Ruby dragged her out of the dorm room, chattering on about what they would tell the councillors in order for them to allow Weiss to take the class. She looked down at their joined hands, trying not to succumb to the sudden warm feeling in her chest. 

Well, Weiss thought, if she had to take the class at least Ruby was supportive of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay friendship!!! oh i decided to have six chapters of this au instead of four, because now i actually have an idea about what i'm going to do with this shit and realized i'd need a little bit of wiggle room


	4. i don't want to set the world on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss is seen, but also not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey this is angst but not too much injury, still SOME injury, but not as much as the last chapter

Weiss’ strings had settled somewhat over the past few days. The amount of relief that followed her around was apparent to anyone who so much as glanced at her. There was no stopping the thread wrapped around her neck from squeezing the air from her lungs, but it was no longer as bad as before—no longer lasting long and burning imprints into her skin, no longer festering as it gripped her so violently. There was, unfortunately, no getting rid of the thin string shaped bruises that lay on her neck—which were so obvious if not for the makeup she applied to hide them away from the world.

It had long since become a part of her morning routine to hide the evidence of her injuries, but now she allowed herself some brief respite from the adrenaline filled missions they used to be. She'd recently not been forcing herself to wait patiently until everyone was distracted to go off and hide them. Though she knew that her teammates didn’t want her to actively try and conceal what was happening to her from them, she couldn’t help but notice the way Yang and Ruby’s eyes lingered on the slope of her neck in the mornings and nights. She didn’t know why they often appeared so worried about her, hadn’t she told them that it was much better than before? But no amount of talk would soothe their burning gazes, so she took to making sure that they didn’t see her neck too often.

Blake however, had grown used to the odd bruises and burns, and seemed rather relieved that she didn’t have to drag Weiss around as often as before to loosen the things that threatened to kill her. She still stayed close though, and even when Weiss told her that she didn’t have to worry too much anymore she found that Blake would often be nearby. Weiss was beginning to suspect that her teammate's closeness _wasn’t_ because she feared that Weiss would suddenly keel over and die, though she had little in ways of evidence to prove her hypothesis.

One morning, Weiss woke up early to the burning sensation of her body throbbing in a sense of hurt that she’d slowly begun to forget about. It wasn’t as bad as it was before, but it was definitely worse then she’d started to grow used to. She let out a huff of breath and forced herself upward, trying to ignore the sensation of exhaustion and pain, and made her way to the empty bathroom. It didn’t look like anyone was up yet, something that Weiss was silently thankful for. She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could manage, and turned to stare at herself in the mirror. Weiss balked at the sight, the blood draining from her face as she took in the spaces around her. The threads were... _tangled_, all of them wrapped around parts of her body—shifting and squirming and squeezing slowly down all around her. Weiss froze, and could only stare, watching as those pieces of her soul slithered on top of her body, snake like and terrifying. They wiggled, and she was suddenly too afraid to move.

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

The strings jumped with her, unknotting a little as someone made a sound at the other end of the door. “Weiss?” Yang asked through a yawn, her voice airy and tired. “Are you actually up early or am I hallucinating?” A beat passed with Weiss not quite able to answer. Another knock on the door. “Weiss?” She sounded a little concerned now. “You good there, Ice Queen?”

Weiss swallowed, eyeing the writhing string around her neck. It was slowly closing off her airway, an almost gentle attempt at suffocation. She opened her mouth hesitantly, and managed out a choked, “Fine.”

“You don’t—” Another yawn, “—_sound_ find.”

“Did I lock the door?” Weiss asked. 

The sound of a doorknob rattling, and then giving way. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Don’t come in.” She warned, eyeing the string around her right wrist. It was tangled with the one on her left pinky, the gold and purple a soothing combination in a terrifying situation. She watched the way they seemed to slide under the door, one connecting to Blake and the other to Yang. How funny was it that the strings not tied to each other had intertwined with each other anyway. 

“What are you doing?” Yang asked her through the door, sounding exasperated. At the sound of her voice the strings seemed to calm, slowly untangling themselves. The affection that Weiss felt for Yang in that moment was unreal, and if she had any less pride she would have wrenched open the bathroom door and drew her into a hug. “Weiss, hey? C’mon dude, I asked you a question—the polite thing to do is answer, y'know.”

“I don’t know.” Weiss replied, her voice slightly mournful. “I don’t quite know how to fix all of this.” She gestured all around her, trying not to catch her fingers on the newly settled strings. They were calm now, but she still didn’t want to risk setting them off. She sighed, moving toward the door and opening it up a crack, peeking an eye out.

“What are you doing, Ice Queen?” Yang asked, scratching at her chin and meeting her eyes. The look on her face would've been comical if not for Weiss' low spirits. “That’s some weird shit to spouting this early in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t usually get up ‘till _way_ later.”

“Um.” Weiss blinked, “No reason!” She winced the sudden protest had hurt her throat. Weiss tried not to show her pain, closing the door a little more so that Yang could only see a little bit of her face. There had to be a way to get her away from the door for a little while, if only for a moment to make a run for her bed. “Say, Yang? Could you do me a favor and cover for me in class later today?”

“What?” Now Yang looked entirely too alarmed. “You’re skipping class? _You_?”

“Not feeling well.” Weiss said smoothly, it wasn’t as though she was lying or anything. Her body hurt, throbbing all over and making her drowsy and unfocused—she wouldn’t be able to pay attention in class today. “So can you please tell our teachers?”

“Weiss.” Yang said softly. “You’re my friend, you know that don’t you?”

The string around her wrist loosened even more, and a glance down revealed a soft glow that hadn’t been there before. That’s progress, she realized breathlessly, that’s _actual_ _progress_. She took a shaky breath, opening the door a little more. “It’s not a pretty sight.” She mumbled. “I had a bad night.”

“Is it as bad as that last time?” She asked, and her tone was so soft it could've been silk, smooth and kind and surprisingly warm. “With the blood and the burns?”

“No.” Weiss admitted quietly, trying not to think of the genuine tenderness in Yang’s voice. “Only bruises.”

“Then it’s pretty enough for me.” Yang gently pushed open the door, making Weiss take a hesitant step back. She had a feeling that even if it had been the same as the last time Yang had seen her in that bathroom, bleeding and festering in her burns, her answer still would’ve been the same. “‘S not so bad.” She said, gently moving forward, closing down the lid of the toilet seat, very carefully maneuvering Weiss so she’d sit down. 

Weiss choked a laugh. “You can’t see what they’re doing.”

“Maybe not.” Yang admitted quietly, kneeling down to get some bandages and salve out from under the sink. She turned her head, and her eyes were surprisingly cool for someone so made of fire. “But I can see _you_, can’t I? That’s enough, I think.”

Yang _saw_ her? The thought would be laughable normally, but... Weiss let out a soft shuddering breath, extending her arms when Yang reached for them. She watched her teammate carefully smear some salve on the bruises, bandaging the random barrage of thin lines once she was finished. _Was it possible that she was seen by her?_ Weiss wondered, _how exactly had Yang managed that?_

“You’re overthinking something.” Yang said quietly, her calloused palms resting on Weiss’ hands. “Don’t.”

Weiss couldn’t help the strangled laugh that escaped her lips. “I’ll try not to.”

“‘S good.” Yang yawned again. “Do you have any more?” Before Weiss could lie, Yang raised a scarily familiar eyebrow, a bit of red bleeding into her pupil.

“Yes.” Weiss murmured softly, looking away, “On my legs and throat...”

“No chest or back wounds?”

“No.” She confirmed.

Yang eyed her, before nodding reluctantly. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t punctured a lung or anything...” She sighed, her eyes trailing up her night dress and settling on her collarbones with a grim sort of determination.

“Yang.” Weiss said. “You don’t have to. They’ll heal, my aura—”

“Caused this.” She interrupted quitely. “Blake told me that sometimes the strings don’t take, that sometimes they’re like a bad blood transfusion, she said that this’ll hurt you until—”

“Yang.” Weiss asked, tilting her head. “When did you start caring about what happens to me?” The look she got in return was furious, but Weiss didn’t flinch. She was genuinely curious, she’d seen hints of it, especially since Yang had found out what happened to her, but she hadn’t known when it started. “I know that you can’t stand looking.” Weiss said when it was clear that Yang wasn’t going to answer, her hand went to her throat, fisting the warm red string. “So I won’t make you.”

Yang didn’t say anything, only squaring her jaw and leaning forward to carefully apply salve onto the marks that marred her neck. Her hands shook a little, but Weiss thought better then to say anything and quietly allowed the bandages to wrap around her neck. Once she was done, Yang let out a sigh of relief.

“And why do you think that?” She asked.

“What?” Weiss frowned.

Yang rolled her eyes, a sigh escaping her lungs as she leaned backward. Her back hit the wall with a soft thump as she pressed her head to the plaster, closing her eyes looking up. Her neck was exposed, and so was her string, a mix of molten gold and violet that made Weiss sigh. “Why do you think I can’t stand to look?”

“I don’t know.” Weiss said honestly. 

She opened her eyes, and they were no longer tinged with red—replaced by a strange type of sorrow that Weiss had never seen on her face before. “Because there’s only a handful of people who could be causing you that kind of harm, and right now all signs point to my _little sister_.”

Weiss stared, somehow despite it all, she wasn’t so surprised that Yang had managed to piece it together. “I won’t confirm or deny anything.” She said finally.

Yang sighed, her shoulders shaking as her eyes glazed over with tears. “You could die, you know that don’t you? The constant wear on your aura, on your body, that _isn’t_ good—what if they squeeze too hard one day? Or just a fraction too long? You could die and Ruby doesn’t even know that the two of you—”

“Her string isn’t tied to mine.” Weiss interjected softly. “She’d be fine.”

Yang shot her an incredulous look. “She _cares_ about you, you stupid little—”

“Maybe.” Weiss said, looking down at her hands. “But she’d heal, and there wouldn’t be any damage on her threads.” She swallowed, an uncomfortable feeling spreading throughout her right wrist. “Everything about this situation is one-sided, Yang. Don’t you see that?”

“_Fuck that_!” Yang said. “Listen up, Ice queen. I don’t _really_ know how you feel about my sister, alright? But I know you care about her, and I know that she cares about you.” She brought her knees to her chest, glaring. “And I know that I care about you too, and so does Blake, and so do a lot of people—surprising as that may be—so maybe you should start minding what you say and do—”

“Thank you.” Weiss murmured softly, rising slowly from the toilet. “For bandaging me up.” Yang hadn't gotten to her legs, but Weiss wasn't exactly complaining, she'd much rather lay in bed then have to hear any more of what her teammate had to say.

Yang scowled harder, but her expression softened once she realized that Weiss’ hands and knees were shaking. “Let me help you get to bed.” She sighed, standing up and gently wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I’m _fine_—” She yelped when Yang lifted her, her only response to grab onto her desperately before she could fall. “This is not—!”

“Shush, Weiss.” Yang said, rolling her eyes as she carried her out of the bathroom, “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

“Already awake.” Blake’s voice said from the top bunk, a teasing whisper in the slowly rising sunlight. “Sweetheart, you cheating on me? Looking awfully comfy with our local Ice Queen.”

“Nah.” Yang said, grinning roguishly up at her partner. “She’s not really my type.”

“I hate _everything_ about this encounter, please drop me out of the window.” Weiss grumbled, her cheeks flushing uncomfortably. 

Yang snorted, carefully setting Weiss under the covers. “We’ll cover for you in class.” Yang smiled, a startlingly sunny look on her face. “Don’t worry so much, okay? Get some rest.”

“I’ll come check on you at lunch.” Blake said, dropping from her bunk bed agilely, moving forward to take a look at her strings. She frowned, “Those are awfully knotted up.”

“She’s got bruises nearly everywhere.” Yang added quietly. “It was... different than before.”

Blake watched her for a moment, before turning back to Weiss. "Rest."

Suddenly feeling it was best if she obeyed, Weiss did as asked and closed her eyes to finally go back to sleep.

* * *

“I don’t like this place.” Sun grumped, folding his arms across his burly chest and shooting Weiss a look of pure suffering. 

“I noticed, Wukong.” She sighed, setting down the book she’d been reading, and tried to give him the most sympathetic look she could offer him. Which, if she was being honest to herself, wasn't very sympathetic looking.

The two of them were both sitting in a half empty classroom, waiting patiently for their professor to return. The woman had asked them to talk with their partners and compare opinions on the pamphlets that she had passed out, but had been called for an emergency at the last second, so Sun and Weiss had been sitting there for about two hours just waiting for her to return. The class was an all day type thing, kind of like a seminar or training, and so far it was an absolutely _horrendous_ experience.

“I mean we’re supposed to be talking about how to be more sensitive in situations that call for it, right?” Sun began, his brow furrowing as he tried to drag her into a conversation. “We're _supposed_ to learn to do things and say things that’ll make it easier to help people out, but none of this actually _helps_ anybody—some of this is just, be polite to your elders, follow the rules, basic nonsense that I _do_ _not_ vibe with.”

“I agree.” Weiss sighed, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand. “Not to mention that many of the suggestions in this pamphlet seem to be implying anyone who takes this class is a delinquent and a scoundrel.” She squinted down at the stupid thing. “Not only is it insulting, but it does nothing to give advice to anyone who genuinely _needs_ the help to successfully navigate social interaction—and the language used is downright patronizing.”

“I agree with you even though I don’t know some of the words you just said.” Sun nodded his head, a serious expression on his face.

“I’m glad to hear it, Wukong.” She took a deep breath, trying not to say anything too scathing in response. Weiss was trying to scale back on the amount of insults that came from her mouth, she’d had some luck, but it was way more exhausting than she had expected it to be. “What do you suppose we do? This class is a poor way to spend our time.”

“We could, you know...” He leaned closer to her, winking conspiratorially. “_Ditch_.”

“Excuse me?” She shot back, raising an unamused brow.

“You know, we could just... _not_ be here anymore.” He explained, gesturing to the open door. “We can leave.”

“I—_what_?!” Weiss began to protest. “We _can’t_ just do that.”

“Well, why not?” Sun asked, looking stumped, he leaned back in his chair, looking at her with a curious expression on his face. It was as though he genuinely didn’t know why she was objecting, a sight that made her clench her jaw.

“It wouldn’t be right.” She tried to explain, but the sentence fell flat, her words settling in the open air rather lamely.

“What do you mean?” He asked, laughing a little. "All this stuff about _rightness_." Sun shook his head, his eyes sparkled teasingly, and the amusement on his face made her want to punch him very hard. “You just said that this class is shitty, and that it won’t do anything to actually help us in the long run.”

“But that doesn’t just mean we _don’t_ attend.” Weiss protested. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know that Sun wasn’t the most accommodating when it came to following the rules (and neither was she sometimes, truth be told) but she’d never been so blatant in her disrespect. 

“Are you sure?” A flicker of concern was on his face now, and he slumped a little in his chair, he pressed his cheek to the desk. He looked almost pitiful like that, and something warm squeezed at her chest. 

And for a brief moment she feared that it was the string that tied them together, that the bond between them had finally began to dwindle to the point where it would become just antagonistic as the rest had been—only to realize that it was only the fact that the reaction of the sight of Sun Wukong looking so pitiful was simply fondness. It made her stomach churn in discomfort, the idea that the feeling of something gently squeezing her chest, of an invisible hand warming her heart—was that of her own body and not of the threads that had taken to punishing her every once in a while.

“I’m sure.” Weiss said, despite not being very sure at all. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and something weighed down her shoulders. She considered Sun’s proposal for a moment, would it really be so bad if she were to skip this class? It didn't seem as though they were going to be learning much of anything. Weiss shook off the thoughts. No, it wouldn’t be wise to leave without at least trying to learn _something_, and besides—she was trying to be the best teammate she could, if they found out she’d ditched... well, nothing good would come of it.

Sun looked at her for a moment, as though sensing her hesitance. “I mean think about it, why should we have to spend time here when we aren’t going to be learning anything?”

“I...” She trailed off, he had a point when he put it like that. “I suppose you’re right, but surely it will reflect poorly upon us.”

“Nah bro, this class ain’t mandatory, the professor doesn't give a shit.” Sun told her, lifting himself to shake his head a little. He smiled, “You don’t have to join me, you know, I can hang around if you don’t want to be alone.”

“Thank you.” She said softly, committing his gentle features to memory. “Still, it’s kind of...” Weiss trailed off, sighing. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Ooh, I gotcha, you’re kind of anxious right?” Sun asked, nodding in understanding. “If you want it could be a little fun thing, we can hang out and do a bunch of things.” He blinked, as though coming to a very important realization. “It could be like a bro initiation!”

“Sometimes the things that come out of your mouth are unintelligible.” Weiss snipped back, losing her grip on her control. She winced inwardly, but before she could move to apologize Sun was talking again.

“I could say the same thing about you, you know.” He teased, grinning. Sun’s smile was wider than before, a strange sight.

“Funny.” She rolled her eyes, and tried to ignore the squirming in her chest. Weiss thought for a moment, would it really be so bad if she were to skip this class? What was she going to learn anyway? It didn’t appear as though the professor had known what she was doing anyway. Resolved, Weiss took a deep breath and asked, “How do you suggest we go about this?”

“We just get up, c’mon, it’s _easy_.” He said, standing. “No one’s gonna stop us from walking out the door.”

Weiss blinked. “Oh—um, alright.” She got up to her feet, packing up her things and following Sun out of the classroom. He was right, while they did get some glances from other students, no one really seemed to want to inquire about what exactly they were doing. There was an odd sense of freedom in that moment, one that Weiss hadn’t felt before. Nobody in that room cared that Sun and Weiss were ditching, and nobody was going to rush out the second they were gone to report them.

Was this what it was like for everyone else? She wondered, in Atlas every move she made was dissected under a microscope, dutifully reported to her father or the odd reporter or private investigator looking to make a dent in the SDC’s proceedings. A swoop of warmth, a strange mixture of discomfort and relief, made her stomach do flips. She looked up to Sun, a friend, and decided right then and there that his words and actions (muddled and hard to really understand as they often were) would always be worth considering.

“See that wasn’t hard at all.” He said with a grin, leading her outside, he plopped himself down on the grass under a tree. When he noticed her hesitate to sit, he took off his shirt and laid it down on the floor, gesturing for her to take a seat. 

Weiss snorted, “You don’t have to do that, Wukong.” 

“Nah, I totally do.” He reached up, gently gripping her hand and dragging her down to the floor, sitting her down where he’d put his shirt.

“Thank you.” She laughed, crossing her legs and patting his shoulder in an attempt to be inviting. They fell silent, looking up and watching the clouds. “I think that my team is going to scold me after this.” Weiss spoke up after a moment, “They were the ones who suggested I attend the class, after all.”

“Pfft, who cares?” Sun asked, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. “They’ll understand if you explain it to them, right? Let’s just relax here for a little while, being in there depleted any and all leftover brain cells I had.” He said through a groan, tipping his face back and letting the gentle wind wash over his features.

“What brain cells?” She snipped back automatically, before inwardly cursing herself. “I mean, ugh, I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry.” Weiss crossed her arms around herself, looking down from the clouds and watching the way the grass grew around her shoes. She really was terrible at the whole ‘nice’ thing, wasn’t she?

“Did you just—hold up, did you just fucking _apologize_ to me, bro?” Sun asked, his eyes snapping open as he twisted his body to face her. He had a moderately incredulous look on his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard. “Like, you’ve been doing that more lately and it’s kinda freaking me out.”

“Um... did I do it wrong?” She asked hesitantly.

“What? No, that’s not it...” Sun trailed off, searching for the words to explain. “It’s just, we play around don’t we? You don’t have to apologize for being you, I mean—wait, why did you think you needed to say sorry anyway?” He suddenly looked annoyed, irritated at the thought of something she couldn’t comprehend. “Did someone tell you something?”

_What?_

“_No_! No, not really.” Weiss hastened to clear up, watching him with dubious curiosity. Why was he so bothered all of sudden? It couldn’t possibly simply be on her behalf. “It’s just... I guess I’m just trying to be nicer.” 

“But why to me?” He asked. “I mean, I like it when we talk, you know? You don’t have to be so... bland with me, I guess—your thoughts are interesting even when they’re kinda mean.”

“Oh.” Weiss mumbled, feeling awfully confused. “Thank you?”

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” He asked, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, his chin positioned on them—tilted in a way that showed his curiosity. “You don’t have to, of course, I just... well, it seems like this is coming from a place that isn’t _you_.”

“It’s just...” Weiss closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She could share with Sun, she knew she could, but knowing that she was capable certainly didn’t make it any easier. “My teammates, we have our comradery and we get on relatively well, but when I say certain things it’s as though I can _feel_ their disapproval.” She explained, a shuddering sigh escaping her lungs. Weiss knew that some part of her was over analyzing, but she also knew that if she didn’t manage to get a control on her sharp tongue the possibility the strings on her body would settle would get that much more unlikely. “It gets difficult, so I’m trying to keep my cruelty at bay, but I... I don’t know how to do that.”

“Oh I get it.” Sun said, reaching to stroke his chin. “You hate that they love you in spite of you being a bitch instead of _because_ of it.”

Weiss frowned, that was one way of putting it, but it felt as though his statement under simplified the matter a bit too much for her liking. “I suppose that’s an adequate way to describe the situation.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Sun said. “I like it when you’re difficult sometimes, adds a little _spice_.”

“What?” He couldn’t possibly be serious, referring to her default rudeness as ‘_spice_’ was absolutely _not_ an appropriate reaction to what she had been saying.

“Like, seriously.” He began, a smile on his face. “You _aren’t_ gonna get rid of your bitchiness, it’s a part of who you are, trying to change it is just a disservice to yourself.”

“Didn’t know you _knew_ words like disservice.” She said automatically, and then winced when she realized what had come out of her mouth. So much for trying to be nicer.

“_See_! You can’t just get rid of what makes you, you!” Sun’s smile didn’t fade, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand as he looked at her. “There’s no shame in being a little prickly, ya know? The only thing you should work on is how you express positive emotions, and if you really want to be less of a bitch than maybe reigning in your thoughts once in a while, _not_ getting rid of them entirely.” Weiss stared as he grinned at her. "Besides, you don't have to be nice to everyone to get the people you love to love you back, sure it helps sometimes, but it isn't super mandatory."

“I don’t…” She didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend how exactly he had drawn that conclusion. Something about it felt wrong, but that was because she thought that perhaps he wasn't wording it as well as he could have. “Do you only like me _because_ I tend to be rude to people?”

“Of course not.” He snorted, waving away her words without a second thought. “That’s only one of the reasons I like you—you can be funny, don’t ya know? And you’re really supportive when you want to be, and you’re headstrong and believe in yourself.” His eyes softened, a gentle blue sea calming her storm. “You’re _Weiss_, ya know? You’re my _friend_.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of you to say.” She looked down at her hands. “I suppose I thought… well.”

“I think I get it.” Sun said, patting her hand a little. “But any connection you make while pretending to be something that you’re not isn’t a real connection.”

She sort of despised the fact that he was right.

“Since when did you _ know _ things?” She asked, not bothering to hide her dubious thoughts. “I mean, seriously Wukong, I need to know where you learned this.”

Sun laughed, shooting her a teasing wink. “There’s my girl.”

Weiss smiled, looking down at her chest to eye the pale gold string that seemed to glow just a little bit brighter. She wasn’t going to make connections by being what she wasn’t, and Weiss Schnee _wasn’t_ a soft person, not to the degree she’d been trying to make herself at least. Becoming a gentler being was a long journey that she couldn’t rush, couldn’t use shortcuts for, and doing it this way—forcing herself to change things without having any real reason but she wanted the pain to go away, well... it didn’t feel _right_ to her. 

But Weiss would do her best, she’d try to make friends in her own way—even if it wasn’t the path most usually taken. She already had Sun in her corner, didn’t she? Mending the connections between the rest of her bonded wouldn’t be a piece of cake, but she’d have help. 

And in the end, wasn’t that all that mattered?

* * *

After spending another hour or two with Sun, Weiss decided that she ought to finally talk to her sister. There was only so much time left for them to speak to each other face to face, and Winter _had_ invited her for a talk. Still, some part of her was inherently weary about seeing her sister, there was still so much up in the air, still so much that Weiss had no desire to even think about when it came to the members of her family. But her sister was there, and it was only right that Weiss attempted to make some kind of effort, if only so that their interactions became less strained in the future. 

There was something about Winter that always made Weiss’ head spin. There was a strange sort of structure to her sister, a sort of devotion to things that Weiss would never be able to stomach. How could her sister be so blind, to put her faith in something unseen? How was it that Winter could forge herself into something so _committed_? How was it that Winter could not mind the _strangeness_ that accompanied what she’d been branded into? How was it that Winter could allow the amalgamation of secrets, whether they were ones kept from her or from the people around her? How could Winter _conform_ in such ways? How could she do such a thing that was unthinkable to Weiss, to sacrifice her freedom with no reward in trust, to become someone molded by another, and see nothing but stern nods and more and more shrouded darkness?

She could never be so devoted to another, to willingly settle herself into a mold, to encase herself into something so blindly. Weiss would never be a soldier, never be able to take not knowing what she fought for, never be able to bury her curiosity and defiance and the strong song that escaped her lungs in such a grand showcasing of desperation and desire that it could only ever make her _sick_.

“You’re getting better at that.” Winter noted quietly, watching as Weiss struggled to maintain the summoning glyph. “With more practice I expect that you’ll manage a shade in a few weeks.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to do my best.” Weiss responded quietly, her words were obviously wary. She didn’t quite know how to talk to Winter at that moment, with their last conversation being Weiss so desperate for her to remove the strings. What did her sister think of her? She wondered. If Weiss saw Winter as a sightless devotee, what could Winter possibly see in her?

“Pace yourself, Weiss.” Winter chided. “You’ll get it eventually, so don’t fret too much.”

“I’m not fretting over this.” Weiss spoke softly, truthfully. This is not what held her attention, not what consumed her thoughts in such ways. Would Winter see it?

“Sure you aren’t.” Winter scoffed, and there was something supremely fond in her voice. It’s at that moment that Weiss knew that her older sister did not see her, did not know her. Winter Schnee Did Not Know Her. And wasn’t that such an odd thing to realize at that moment? Such a strange thought, the fact that her sister couldn’t tell what danced in Weiss’ thoughts. “Regardless, summoning isn’t the only reason you decided to visit today... is it?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Weiss said, reaching up and gently running a hand on the string around her chest. The string thrummed happily, and something warm squeezed her heart in it’s hand.

“Yes, though I’d like you to explain the situation to me.”

“I met another, as you can tell.” Weiss said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Something itched just beneath her skin, a monstrous excuse of an emotion—anger and disappointment as a result of the knowledge that her sister didn’t _see_ her. (Didn’t _know_ her.) “He’s very kind, his string mirrors that.”

“...you mean it hasn’t harmed you?” Winter asked, tone astonished. 

“No, it hasn’t—as a matter of fact it’s kept some of the more unruly ones at bay.” Weiss’ hand went from her chest to her throat, and she turned away from her sister. A part of her didn’t want to hear what her sister would say, but she couldn’t control that, so she forced herself not to look—a small exercise of the little sway she had in this situation.

The red string was dim and cool, a far cry from what it had been before. It had used to be so hot it seared imprints into her neck, bruises and burns and strange loops wrapped around her windpipe in obvious notions of pain. It was the same, still hurting, still cruel, but it was dimmer now. It wasn’t so violent as to burn her, but bruises still littered her throat in intervals, and there was always that constant reminder that some part of her wasn’t enough. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that it was only a matter of time that the truth revealed itself to the people around her (Yang finding about the way she was connected to Ruby was a testament to that) but she knew that if she only had one more minute shrouded in the secret of who it was tied to she would choose it everytime. 

Weiss knew that perhaps it wasn’t the smartest course of action, and knew that sometimes keeping things untold could have consequences that would impact her significantly later. But there was no going back, she could not bear the weight of that silver lined gaze, could not stomach the look that might cross her face. If Weiss was to be a weak person, she would at least do it on her own terms.

“Your neck.” Winter said, and Weiss could feel something tug at the collar of her school uniform. “You hide the pain, but I can see it—the bruises, clear as day.”

“It’s better than before.” Weiss insisted.

“That’s what mother used to say.” Winter uttered, her voice barely audible. She pulled harder on the collar of her dress shirt, tugging the white cloth down down down, revealing the slope of the back of her neck to her. Her sister’s fingers brushed around the bruises, trailing the thin black and blue strips of skin imprinted from her string. “You do know that, don’t you? And now she can’t bear to be in the same room of her children, the lack of strings between us and her utterly _destroyed_—”

“Winter.” Weiss sighed her name, and there was a brittleness to the air that enshrouded her sister’s name, like with a single push she would fall apart. The fingers on the back of her neck, paused, before removing themselves and settling on her shoulder.

“Does it pain you, that your string is unrequited?” Winter asked quietly, very gently spinning her around to face each other.

“Sometimes.” Weiss admitted honestly, still averting her gaze.

“I’ll make sure that father doesn’t realize anything about this...” Winter sighed, patting Weiss gently on the shoulder before hesitantly letting go and pulling away. “Though, I did have a thought.”

“What is it?”

“I know that...” Winter took a deep shuddering breath, straightening her shoulders in an effort to show strength. “I know that you are not the fondest of our mother, but have you considered the idea that she may have some advice?”

“Even if she did have some sort of idea to help, what makes you think that she would actually help me?” Weiss asked, glaring. She took a step back, crossing her arms and struggled not to do something rash.

“Weiss...”

“No, Winter.” She cut her off, she could barely understand how her sister could even think to recommend that course of action. “You _know_ that I have a point, what makes you think that mother would actually help me? What makes you think she would actually help _any_ of us?” Weiss was fuming by now. “Besides, all that’s happening to me has to be some sort of divine retribution, right? A punishment for—”

“How many times do I have to tell you that what happened to Whitley wasn’t your fault?” Winter asked, crossing her arms and shooting her a look that betrayed her annoyance.

“At least once more.” Weiss sniffed.

Her sister rolled her eyes, stepping further away and moving to sit at the table they had been sitting at earlier. She lifted a tea cup to her mouth, sipping before letting out a lethargic sigh. “So dramatic.”

“I do so believe it’s genetic, dear sister. Perhaps you should get yourself checked.” Weiss snarked back, following Winter back to the table. She set down her rapier, carefully leaning it against the greenhouse wall. Grabbing a cookie, she slid into her seat, idly nibbling on the treat. She wondered if Ruby would like one. “I _sincerely_ doubt it’s skipped you over.”

“Someone’s lips are loose today.” Winter noted, watching her over the rim of her cup.

“Apologies.” Weiss sighed, despite not feeling very apologetic. 

“Don’t bother with that, it’s nice to see you in a better mood.” Her sister smiled, setting down her drink and reaching for one of the cookies. An irrational urge to snatch them away from her consumed Weiss, and she averted her gaze before she could give into the temptation.

“You think I’m in a better mood?” She asked quietly, reaching to gather a couple of the cookies into a napkin, before gathering that into another napkin and placing it in her bag. Weiss would bring it to Ruby as a peace offering, hopefully that would work and she’d get out of a Ruby trying (and most likely failing) to scold her.

“Well, you haven’t stormed out of the room yet, so excuse me for assuming.” Winter quipped, shooting her a look that featured her famous raised eyebrow.

Something in Weiss twisted at the expression on her sister’s face, and she hadn’t realized she’d been stiff until her shoulders relaxed. “Yes well, I had a most enlightening conversation with Sun a couple hours ago, he’s very kind.”

“You’ve mentioned that.” Winter pointed out curiously.

Weiss bristled, “Yes, well—”

“No need to go on the defensive.” Winter said through a chuckle, sipping her tea once more. “As long as he’s a good friend to you I approve.”

“Oh I sincerely doubt that.” Weiss managed through a laugh. “He’s _my_ friend and I’m still not so sure I approve.”

“...ah.”

“A joke, Winter.” She said, moderately exasperated by the look on her sister’s face. 

“Well, it wasn’t very funny, now I’m worried.” Winter set down her tea cup, straightening her shoulders and smoothing out the table cloth with slightly fretful hands. It was an odd sight, seeing her in such a state, and Weiss couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty.

“Trust me,” Weiss’ voice was soft, “you don’t have to be so concerned, he’s—” She was cut off by the sound of a gentle string of piano music and a soft series of vibrations coming from her pocket.

“Your scroll.” Winter pointed out with a sigh, looking mildly annoyed at the inconvenience. 

Weiss rolled her eyes, pulling out the device with slightly fumbling fingers and letting out a deep sigh when she saw the caller ID. “Oh dear.” She mumbled, wondering whether or not she should answer—it wouldn’t be so bad if she ignored it, right? It was a video call after all, and it would be quite plain to see that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Weiss really didn’t want to have to explain herself, but on the other hand if she sent it to voicemail her sister would undoubtedly try and bring up a conversation topic she didn’t want to talk about.

So she was a coward either way, wasn’t she?

“Worrying call?” Winter asked, interrupting her train of thoughts with a raised eyebrow.

“Something like that.” Weiss mumbled, gathering her courage and answering the scroll. “Hello?”

“_Weiss_!” Ruby greeted, a pout on her face. She was standing in a hallway, right in front of a window and next to a familiar door. Something twisted in her stomach when she recognized the fact that Ruby was waiting in front of the sensitivity training classroom, and a lump rose in her throat. How long had she been waiting for her?

“Good afternoon, Ruby.” Weiss tried to sound cordial, as though there _wasn’t_ a rather large amount of guilt suddenly thrust upon her shoulders. “Was there something I could assist you with?” She fought the urge to shrink on herself, why was she acting so clueless? Wouldn’t it be best if she were to get out and have a straightforward conversation about what happened? No, Weiss thought dimly, her pride wouldn’t allow it.

“You skipped the class.” Ruby accused, adjusting her scroll so that the full effects of the disappointed look on her face was clearly visible. “Why?” Something in her voice was tinged with something strange, almost as though she was worried. “I mean... I thought that you wanted to fix things.”

“May I present my defense?” Weiss asked her, the voice she used softer then she’d meant it to be. She could feel the way that Winter watched her suddenly, and Weiss realized that every word said would be overheard by her sister unless she stood and left the room. There was no way that Winter would let whatever happened between Weiss and Ruby go untalked about, whether she was there to hear their conversation or not.

Ruby watched her, her brows furrowed and lips pursed. “Alright...” She nodded her head absentmindedly, an expectant glint in her eyes. “Go for it.” There was a lethargicness in her movements, a calculating flow that threw Weiss off guard, and she was immediately far more on edge then she’d been before.

“The class was stupid.” She blurted out, the words slipping from her mouth. Her voice didn’t sound like her, and something warm pulsed around her throat. The sensation was strange, it wasn’t quite as harmful as it had been before, when her strings had seemed adamant on causing her pain. It was more like the strings were forcing words from her mouth, a sentence she’d never say otherwise, the sensation was uncomfortable and terrifyingly familiar. Had this happened before when one of her bonded asked her a question? Or was it just Ruby?

“Is... is that _it_?” Ruby asked, taking the sudden silence the wrong way, her face contorting into a frown on the screen. “_That’s_ all you got to say?”

Weiss resisted the urge to correct her grammar, and tried to properly explain. “I can show you the pamphlet they gave us if you’d like, truly—some of the advice they give us is terrible, Ozpin really dropped the ball on the whole sensitivity training thing.” The words weren’t as articulate as she would have liked them to be, but some part of her was still shaken about the soft squeezing sensation around her throat.

Ruby’s frown was still in place, and the sight of it sent an unpleasant tingle down Weiss’ spine. “_Still_ though! I thought you were going to make an effort, I was waiting for you outside of class with snacks and everything—” (Weiss winced) “—then I had to find out from _Cardin Winchester_ of all people that you had _skipped out_ with _Sun_!”

“Did he at least tell you how stupid the class was?”

“Weiss!” Ruby exclaimed, a shocked laugh escaping her mouth, the look of surprise on her face entirely too comical for Weiss to take her seriously.

“Sorry, I was making a joke.” She said, averting her gaze from Ruby. Her eyes settled onto her older sister, who merely raised an amused eyebrow, and Weiss found that she’d much rather look at Ruby. “Is it really so bad that I left?” The question left her mouth hesitantly. Sun said that if she had just explained the situation everything would be fine, so she would do her best to do just that. “The advice was downright patronizing, and the professor had clearly never taught a day in her life. Honestly, who leaves their class _unattended_ for two entire _hours_ and doesn’t expect one or two students to leave?”

Ruby’s stare was unavoidable, silver eyes blinking at her owlishly. It was the look of pure _disbelief_ on her face that made Weiss suddenly supremely uncomfortable. “Oh my god Sun has corrupted you.” She murmured, looking away from Weiss and at something on the floor. Ruby looked as though she’d just received devastating news, as though her ‘corruption’ by Sun was one of the worst things she’d ever heard. “Oh... I can’t even believe it...” She trailed off.

Weiss glared, thoroughly insulted. “_Excuse_ you—”

“This is what I get for not being a better leader, my partner’s turning into a delinquent.” Ruby mumbled, looking forlorn. “What has the world come to? My wonderful partner, a hooligan.”

“Oh, I’m _hardly_ a—”

“I’ll miss my old partner... Weiss Schnee... notorious teacher’s pet... someone who truly valued organization and following the rules... gone forever, only this hoodlum in front of me remains, wearing the face of my precious most innocent partner.”

Winter, overhearing, let out a loud laugh. Weiss glared over at her while her sister hastened to cover up her mouth. “_You_?” Winter snorted, shooting her a look. “Following the _rules_?”

“Shut up!” Weiss hissed back, her cheeks flushing hotly. Honestly, it wasn’t like she’d never followed the rules that their father had set in place for them! It just happened that she was a bit more rebellious than the rest of her siblings, it wasn’t something that Winter had any right to make fun of her for. The place where her sister’s string was bonded to hers (her left ear) pulsed and glowed, shining a little before pulsing out.

“Wait, who’s that?” Ruby asked, looking suddenly more alert, as though the fact that Weiss was not alone 

“My sister.” Weiss explained tiredly, looking back down to her scroll. It was the most interesting sight, the abrupt and plain as day _panic_ on Ruby’s face. She almost smiled.

“Oh.” Said Ruby, looking increasingly in distress. “...Hi Weiss’ big sis.” Her voice cracked.

“Her name is Winter.” Weiss couldn’t stop the twitch of her lips.

“I _know_ her name!” Ruby protested, flushing hotly. “Miss Weiss’ big sis I totally know your name, don’t listen to your sister she’s a _hooligan _ and a _delinquent_ and a _ruffian_!”

“Wow, did you invest in a word a day calendar?” Weiss asked, moderately impressed. “Very proud of your growing vocabulary.”

Ruby’s blush deepened, a sheepish look on her face. “Nah... It was more like I overheard you and Sun talking and didn’t really understand what you were saying so I opened a dictionary and—”

“Still.” Weiss began grudgingly. “I’m glad you’re broadening your vocabulary... even if it is only to insult people.”

“It isn’t that.” Ruby mumbled, still looking embarrassed. “I just wanted to know what you were saying.”

“Oh.” She said, and a lump rose into her throat. Weiss didn’t quite know what to say to that, and right as she opened up her mouth to change conversation topics to spare both of them the humiliation, her sister coughed to get her attention. She flushed again, her eyes going to the amused ones of Winter’s.

“Hmm.” Was all her sister said. “Are you so sure about your string?”

“Weiss?” Ruby asked, and she looked down to see her partner suddenly much more serious. “Were you talking about those bond things again?”

“I—”

“Are you sure?” Winter interrupted, seeming not to care that Ruby could overhear. “That it’s unre—”

“I’ll call you back Ruby.” Weiss said, hanging up the call before her team leader could protest and turning to face her sister. “That is quite _enough_!” She glared at Winter so fiercely for a moment she feared that she might accidentally set something on fire, “I think I’d rather not talk about it with someone whose only tangible advice on the matter is to run to darling _mother dearest_.” 

Weiss stood, grabbing her things and making a hasty retreat, ignoring the sounds of her sister calling her name. She made it all the way down the hall before something in her eyes began to burn, and she was forced to rub away at her eyes. Gripping her scroll and making sure it was only an audio call this time, Weiss called Ruby back.

“Weiss?” Her voice was soft.

“I’m sorry for ending the call so abruptly, Ruby.” Was the first thing out of her mouth. “I’ll make it up to you somehow...” She trailed off for a moment, trying to think. “I’m heading back to the dorm room anyway so—”

“Hey, wait up a sec.” Ruby said. “You’re fine.”

“Ruby—”

“Just come back to the dorm, don’t worry about making it up to me.” Her tone was gentle, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the kind look on her partner’s face. “I’ll be there, waiting for you, okay?”

Something inside Weiss seized at the sound of her compassion, and it was with great effort that she was not reduced to tears. Her hand pressed itself into Myrtenaster’s hilt in an effort to ground the body it was attached to, and she found herself thinking of the cookies she’d stashed away into her bag to bribe Ruby to leave her alone. Why was she even attempting to buy off the girl? It wasn’t as though she often gave incentive to anyone else she wanted to leave her alone. She grimaced, closing her eyes tightly and trying to get a reign in on her undesired thoughts. There would be no point in dwelling on it, not right then.

“Alright.” She said back, “I’ll be there soon.”

“You better.” Ruby’s voice was teasing, and then the call was ending.

Weiss moved forward, she needed to make her way to the lockers to put away Myrtenaster before heading back to her dorm. Throughout her steps she kept coming back to Ruby, kept trying to kick her out of her mind only to have the blasted girl run through it over and over again. 

What was the point in even thinking about why Ruby was different? Weiss _knew_ why she wasn’t, knew why there was no point in thinking about it. Wasn’t it obvious? She was tied to Ruby for eternity, Weiss’ very soul had been tied to the other girl, and it wasn’t requited at all. Of course she’d want to do things for her, of course she would grow to care—what else could she do in the face of what was happening to her? Fight? Rebel? What good would come of _that_? There was no treating Ruby like garbage simply because she existed, Weiss had learned that lesson, had felt the direct consequences of what would happen to her if she didn't heed it. 

So no, she thought as she pressed her palm to the dorm room door, there would be no point in pondering the difference of who she was tied to. She pushed open the door, swallowing nervously as she walked in.

“Weiss—” Began Ruby, only to have a napkin shoved into her face.

“Here.” She said. “I don’t want to talk right now, but I brought you something.”

Ruby blinked, and as she began to unwrap them Weiss dodged her, setting her bag near her bed and laying down on the mattress without changing from the uniform she’d been wearing.

“Cookies!” Ruby cheered, and Weiss felt herself smile into the pillow. Something soft brushed against her cheek, and she opened her eyes to be met with a gently glowing blue thread brushing her face. As quick as she noticed the string it was gone, disappearing by rearing backward and fading from existence.

Her eyes followed where it had originated from, only to find the beaming face of Ruby Rose looking down at her.

Oh.

“Thank you!” Ruby said.

_Oh._

“Um.” Weiss replied ineloquently. “Right.” 

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys,,,, i feel like for this story to be good it's gotta be a slow burn, and i only planned for this to have a little bit of chapters i am going to s c r e a m ,,,,should i give it more??? can i control myself??? i don't k n o w ughhhh,,,,, my hubris is a curse,,,,,, my work is never finished,,,,,
> 
> anyway, how'd u like it? :)


	5. of all the weapons you fight with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has killed me,,,, i am dead on the floor,,,,
> 
> ....it has like.... 4000 more words then the last chapter.... it's been decided, i am going to throw myself into the sea,,
> 
> this chapter is more dialogue heavy, so fair warning
> 
> (anyway, totally unrelated to this chapter, the song "my way" by frank sinantra really reminds me of weiss tbh)

In the days that followed, Weiss considered herself and her situation. 

How could she possibly be so unlucky?

She couldn’t help but watch and wait for the sign that it might appear once more—her mouth glued shut and her eyes pried wide. Could it have been that she had hallucinated? Could it have been that Weiss had been so desperate for a requited bond that she had imagined the whole thing? She didn’t know, and that scared her more than anything else about the situation. Weiss couldn’t exactly fix something she didn’t _know_ needed fixing, it would be impossible for her. (Especially considering the fact that she could barely fix what she already knew needed fixing.)

The blue thread had her thinking about her relationship with Ruby constantly, and she couldn’t help the pressure that sat on her chest every time she thought about her team leader. Every thought of her weighed heavy, pulling her _down down down_—submerging her in the depths of an ocean of all types of emotions, mixed and unrecognizable. She was drowning in everything, in the sudden press that prodded at her from all sides, in the threads and their still mildly violent ways. It was like the air was being stripped from her lungs, replaced with something she couldn’t identify—it was like she was breathing in liquid fire, lava that bubbled in her chest and melted her insides.

Was this what it was like to care for someone who didn’t care for you?

_No_.

No that wasn’t true, because Ruby _did_ care about her, she _did_ hold Weiss in some place near her heart. She consistently claimed that they were best friends, and she sought Weiss’ company often—nobody would do that if they didn’t care for someone else, after all Ruby had plenty of other friends to follow around. So what was exactly unrequited about their relationship? If anything, it should be _swapped_! With Ruby so adamant on their friendship and Weiss barely able to conceive the possibility of it, didn’t it sound as though Weiss was the one not reciprocating? 

The thought troubled her dearly, perhaps she should be more open with Ruby? Or maybe begin to consider herself her best friend? The problem was, those questions didn’t feel like the ones that she _should’ve_ been asking, and her conclusion was that she was missing something very _very_ important.

The idea scared her silent, and in the days that passed Weiss could barely open her mouth to say anything. She feared that her terror was plain as day on her face, but she managed to make an excuse for the quiet that came from the spot she normally stood. Whenever her teammates asked her something, she’d pat at her neck, as though the string there was restricting her from saying anything. (And it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie, though she was playing up the effects a little bit, so she didn't feel too guilty.) But Weiss knew that her justification of silence would not last her much longer, and that she had to figure out what to do about what she had seen.

She’s cornered in the library by Blake, her friend reaching out and snatching the textbook she had been reading from her hands. Weiss looked up and tried not to appear affected by her sudden appearance, but from the way that Blake’s eyes narrow she knows that she doesn’t succeed at all. It’s only been two days since Weiss had seen the blue string, but Blake seemed to already know that something was wrong with her—that she had been hiding something from all of them.

“What’s the matter?” Blake asked her quietly. “You’ve been quiet, and I know that it might be your threads, but something else feels wrong.” She lifted her bicep, gesturing to it with one of her hands. Their strings were better than before certainly, no holes or loose threads, not falling into clumps at their feet—but it still had yet to begin to glow. It was a strange observation, the fact that she’d managed to improve Yang’s connection to her more then Blake’s—and she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit stumped on how to improve it. 

“I...” Her voice came out weak, eyes examining the thread. It was wrapped pale blue around Blake, the color of Weiss’ aura, and slowly turned into the color purple as it circled it’s way around her left pinky. It was almost as though looking into the sky as the day passed, the blue slowly but surely turning darker and darker until it was a purple night. How long had it been since she considered them something to behold? How long had it been since she’d seen the threads as something beautiful?

Far too long.

“Blake.” Weiss began, her voice a bit rasped from disuse. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly—if you don’t know, just say.”

“Alright.” Her friend said, raising a quizzical brow and sitting on the edge of the library table with her arms crossed. “Go ahead.”

“Is it possible,” Weiss started to ask quietly, “that some strings can fade in and out of existence?”

Blake blinked very very slowly, her eyes gradually getting wider and wider. “...I’m sorry?” Her voice was softer than usual. “Can you repeat that for me please?”

“So you don’t know.” Weiss nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose and releasing a tired sigh. So either she had imagined the entire thing, or this was something so rare that Blake’s family had never encountered it. “Nevermind, it wasn’t that important—”

“I never said I didn’t know.” Blake said, looking troubled. “I only asked you to repeat your question.”

Weiss let out an unimpressed huff of air. “I asked if it was possible for a string to blink in and out of existence.” She attempted to reach out and snatch the textbook back from Blake, but found that her arms were too short to effectively grab it. 

Blake smiled, but it was tinged with something odd. “Weiss, why are you asking me this?”

She froze in her seat, staring stubbornly down at the wooden table. Should she tell Blake? _Yes_, she thought immediately, yes she should. The last time she had tried to keep something a secret it had blown up in her face eventually, and she had the assistance of her friend then. It wasn’t possible for her to keep it locked up without the support of the very person she was debating keeping it a secret from.

“I saw...” She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. Weiss decided to start it out simple, after all saying _anything_ was only a step forward at this point. “I saw a string.” She tried, her voice coming out lame and ragged.

“A string.” Blake asked slowly, shooting her an indecipherable look.

“Yes.” She affirmed quickly, her shoulders going very stiff.

“Weiss.” Blake sighed, looking slightly fond but mostly exasperated, “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.” It was strange, seeing that lick of attachment to Weiss on Blake’s face, and it served to soothe her worries ever so slightly.

“I... I saw a string appear, and then...” She couldn’t help but hesitate. This was something she could barely come to terms with herself, and asking Blake about it seemed like she was making it a problem she couldn’t handle on her own. Even though she knew that going to her friend for help was the right thing to do, she couldn’t help but grapple with the weight of her own pride.

“And then?” Blake prodded, looking a tad worried now.

“And then I saw it _disappear_!” Weiss blurted out, the panic in her voice obvious and inexcusable. She inwardly winced, trying to get a rein in on her emotions, and managed to calm her voice down every so slightly. “I saw it... it’s _gone_ now.”

Blake watched her a moment, the subtle makings of a frown on her face. “Was it one of your strings?” She asked, sympathetic. “Did you meet another—”

“No.” Weiss said immediately. She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and shook her head a little frantically. “No, it wasn’t one of mine.”

Blake raised an eyebrow. The look on her face was becoming increasingly worried, normally she’d feel quite awed that her friend so obviously cared about her, but at that moment she was struggling to not panic and blurt out everything she’d kept close to her chest. “Weiss, who’s string was it?” Her voice was soft, a welcome reprieve to the loud pounding of her heart—the unsettling thrum of her pulse along with the humming of her strings.

“...it was Ruby’s.” She managed out just before the red thread around her neck squeezed the rest of the air out of her windpipe. 

“...what?” Blake asked.

“I _said_ it was Ruby’s.” Weiss hissed out again.

Blake let out a huff of annoyed air, her shoulders tensing as she gripped at her forearms. She didn’t look angry, but there was a persistent air of worry and exasperation. “Well _which one_ of Ruby’s?”

She stayed stubbornly silent, looking away and crossing her arms, keeping her gaze on the empty chair beside her. 

“Weiss!” Blake snapped her fingers in front of her face. When that got nothing, she vaulted over the table and spun to land sitting on the chair that Weiss had been staring at. (And Blake had the nerve to call _her_ over dramatic.) “Hey!” Blake snapped her fingers again, making Weiss bat them away, “Which string was it?”

“It was the master thread, okay?!” Weiss exclaimed, getting her a few odd looks from the other students in the library, not that she noticed. There was a desperate pull in her chest that made her bones rattle, her stomach swooping and churning while her fears played on nerves she’d forgotten existed. She’d become so accustomed to the strings and their way, physically playing with her body in tune to her emotions, that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel fear that didn’t come from the shreds of soul tied to her own. “It faded out of existence, it showed up and I just—”

“Shh.” Blake soothed gently, she placed a hesitant hand on Weiss’ shoulder, putting her textbook back down on the table. “It’s alright, calm down and explain to me what happened, who did it almost connect to? What color was it?” A pause. “You obviously didn’t cut it by accident, Ruby still has her strings intact.”

“...do you think I could’ve cut it?” Weiss asked, not catching anything Blake said except ‘_cut it by accident_.’ The thought was torturous, the idea that she may have damned Ruby because her stupid fingers touched a string without being careful. It sent her down a spiral of emotion, and her threads tightened in response.

“No, she still has all of her strings.” A lethargic sigh cut off her train of thought. “Keep up, Weiss.”

Indignation ran through her veins like blood. “Well, _excuse me_ for worrying that I might have done something irreparable!”

“Weiss.” Blake interjected softly, reaching out both hands and settling them against Weiss’ shoulders. She kept them there for a long while, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Weiss froze, the action was so out of character that all her panic drained away as she was suddenly startlingly aware of Blake’s fingers gently digging into her shoulder blades. Blake was good for an occasional pat on the back, but prolonged touching was definitely _not_ a thing that happened—as far as Weiss knew, Yang was the only one awarded the privilege.

“Right...” She murmured distantly, shaking out her head as though she could spill out the unfocused thoughts from her brain. She hoped that she could get through this conversation without suffocating once again. “Sorry.”

Blake gave her a sympathetic smile, rubbing her thumbs into Weiss as though to comfort her, and withdrew her arms. “Who did it connect to?” She asked softly. “I know it might be hard to talk about, because of your situation, but it’s very important we know who it was tied to—for Ruby’s sake.”

“...no one.” Weiss murmured. 

Blake blinked, her eyes going wide and her mouth pulling into a confused grimace. “What do you _mean_ no one?”

“I _mean_ it faded before it had a chance to... connect.” Weiss explained hesitantly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. She didn’t mean to be so secretive and misleading, but she couldn’t quite get the words straight out.

“That...” Blake seemed suddenly more shaken than before. “It didn’t even join before it faded away?”

“No.” Weiss shook her head.

“Okay, okay—” Blake took a deep breath, “—which direction did it go? Where were you when this happened, somewhere crowded or secluded?” Her words were a little more frantic, as though these questions were life and death.

“It was in the...” Weiss closed her eyes up tight. She didn’t really want to answer her. The thread around her throat constricted a little tighter, as though it shared the sentiment she did. She grimaced, her hands automatically going to tug at it, before Blake gripped her palms—stopping her from touching it. Weiss blinked, staring at their joined hands, Blake had been smart to stop her from touching something so volatile, but that didn't explain why she wasn't letting go.

“Okay, okay, you don’t want to answer that? That’s fine.” Blake said, eyeing the sudden movement of the red string around her throat. “Just tell me how it faded.” She squeezed Weiss’ hands in her own.

“It made...” Weiss swallowed around the string, wincing at the sudden pressure. “It touched who was supposed to be tied to it and... and it reeled back, like it had made a _mistake_.” Something in her stomach twisted, and she forced herself to take a deep breath—even if it agitated her thread. “It _recoiled_, as though it had touched something radioactive, and seemed to run... then it faded away from sight.”

“Weiss.” Blake looked her straight in the eye, her tone betraying the importance of the situation to her. Something was clearly very wrong with what she’d told her, and she had to battle the dread that danced down her spine, sending shivers up her body. “Weiss, what _color_ was it?”

“...what do you _think_?” Weiss couldn’t help but snark bitterly, letting go of Blake’s hand to press her fingers onto her throat. She slipped them beneath her threads in an attempt to loosen them up, and much to her relief she succeeded slightly.

“What do you _mean_ what do I—” Blake started incredulously, only to pause at the way Weiss had said the words. “Oh.” She said softly, looking down at the string between them—her eyes lingering on the pale blue around her bicep. “It was yours.”

A shuddering breath. “I don’t...” Her words were weak, and her eyes shut up tight. “I don’t know what I _did_ to deserve this.” Weiss’ voice cracked, and it occurred to her that her words must have been a lie—it was her fault that Whitley had lost them, it was her that tipped off their father, however accidental it was. An eye for an eye, that was the saying wasn’t it? “Is it not enough that I’m trying to reclaim my name? Is it not enough that I wanted to protect the people harmed by it?” Her shoulders trembled, “Is it not enough to want to change?”

Apparently not.

“Oh, Weiss.” Blake sighed softly, and the look in her eye was near unbearable. 

She couldn’t stand the thought that Blake might pity her, might become gentler to her in some misguided attempt to soothe her hurt. Weiss felt something in her chest throb, and did her best to calm herself down. The fear enshrouded her, pushing on her body, brutally shoving down her shoulders—the pressure was almost too much to bear. She forced herself forward, and after the sheer terror gave away, all that was left was a rage that burned deep inside her heart.

Weiss may have deserved this, she realized, there was a voice in the back of her mind telling her that she had ruined something sacred—but there was also a tiny scream of rebellion reverberating throughout her thoughts. Her choices were being stripped from her, every action of the potential to express freewill torn from her body, the possibility for a path that she had decided on growing smaller and smaller. This could _not_ be allowed, no matter how much that she may have deserved to suffer, no matter how much pain the world insisted be wrought upon her—she still had a job to do, still had a name to bring to glory once more. She would not fail, not after everything she had been through to get to this point.

“No, don’t.” She shrugged off Blake’s concern, wiping at her tears angrily. She would not be accepting her friend’s pity, no amount of sympathy would stop her progression of the mission that she had chosen for herself. “I have to... I have to figure out a way to get around this.” Weiss hissed out the words, only a little surprised when Blake managed to pick up on them.

“Not alone, not without us.” This was said fiercely, and it was so very obvious that something was burning in the back of Blake’s throat, as though a fire existed inside of her—boiling and bubbling and all together too warm. And it hit Weiss then, why it was that Blake and Yang got on so well—they held a little bit of each other inside themselves. Before, when Yang had bandaged her up, that was something that she would expect from Blake, and now—when Blake had uttered these words so seriously, so passionately determined, this reminded her of Yang.

Despite herself, she found that she believed the strings had nothing to do with it. Blake had always been like this, and it was the same with Yang—but their partnership had brought it to the forefront of themselves, as though they were evolving together.

And for the first time in a good long while, she understood the allure of a partnership between a person and their bonded. It could be something good, Weiss realized, if she let it. But something held her back still, a nagging sense of inevitability that came with her own persistent pessimism. 

“...Blake.” Weiss said after a moment, her breath escaping her lungs in uneven puffs, “I—” She froze, her eyes finally settling on the string between them.

“What’s with that face?” Blake asked, a frown beginning to settle onto her expression.

“Our string.” Weiss managed to choke out. “It’s changed.” 

There was a glow, a wonderful _glow_—almost as bright as the one that she held with Sun. A warmth from her pinky had begun to spread throughout her hand, and because of her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed. She remembered something that Sun had said to her, then, _‘any connection you make while pretending to be something that you’re not isn’t a real connection.’_

It looked as though he was right.

There would be no forcing her situation to change, she had to mean to open up to them, had to _want_ to be near them—want to _talk_ to them in order for things to begin to get better.

“...did you really not notice? It started glowing the second you decided to open up to me.” Blake said, smiling at her strangely.

“But... but I don’t understand.” Weiss admitted to her quietly, she looked up at her, the expression on her face pleading. “I still don’t understand how it got better.” But the words tasted like a bitter lie in her mouth, it felt as though deep down she _did _ know. She understood what was happening, what the strings meant—but she couldn’t comprehend it by herself.

“Weiss, haven’t I told you? The strings are all about potential.” Blake said quietly, her words slow and soothing.

“What?”

“None of these things are set in stone, I’ve said that all relationships are different, and I _meant_ it—these soul strings, all they do is tell you that you have the potential to love someone for the rest of your life.” She explained, pressing a hand to Weiss’ own—her fingers brushing against their shared string.

“You’ve said things like that before, but I thought you were just being...” She grimaced, “Optimistic.”

“_Me_, optimistic?” Blake asked, the curve of her lips teasing and fond. “I think that’s more Yang and Ruby’s forte.”

“...what did you mean then, about potential?” Weiss questioned softly after a moment.

“To love is to be human, to _choose_ our love is even _more_ so—the gods would not take that away from us, no matter how tightly they tie us together, nothing is stronger than the urge to tear ourselves apart.” A slightly bitter smile. “You told me that you used to cut strings from your body, didn’t you? Did you think the whole time that you were missing out on people who _should’ve_ been in your life?”

“...yes.” The admission was quiet. Every time in Atlas, _every time_ she snipped the strings that lingered near her body, every time she made sure that other aura’s would not merge with hers—ensured that they would not meet, a small part of her shriveled up. She had seen those strings as a trap, had seen them as a restriction on her life. There would be no happiness with no choice.

“The only thing you truly missed was the _potential_ for happiness.” Blake said softly, she was smiling sadly now. “But you must have been so lonely, thinking that you had missed people that were supposed to be important to you instead of the people who had a chance to be.”

“But what does that mean for me and...” She took a shaky breath, “for me and Ruby?”

“Well.” A mischievous smirk. “Clearly you two have some issues to iron out, but there’s potential where there _wasn’t_ before—you can’t rush it.” Her smile melted here. “It has to progress naturally or it won’t progress at all... the problem with that is, well...” She gestured to Weiss’ clearly straining strings.

“They aren’t not so bad.” She tried to say, “Really they aren’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, Weiss, it won’t work on me like it does Ruby and Yang, _I_ can actually _see_ them.” Blake’s eyes narrowed somewhat, mouth pursed in a look of supreme disapproval. 

Undeterred, Weiss found herself continuing trying to lessen Blake’s worry. “Really, I can—”

“Weiss,” Blake paused, “_don’t_.”

There was something loaded in her tone of voice, something that Weiss couldn’t see. The string on her pinky warmed slightly, and Weiss found her eyes flickering down to it. It was still astonishing, the sight of the threads so calm and radiant. The purple of her string slowly faded into pale blue, a beautiful amalgamation of shades. It struck her then, how when the string around her chest first began to glow the rest of them had gone chilly and cold in it’s overwhelming warmth—to the point where when her threads reacted, they no longer burned her.

(Ruby’s was the only one still dangerously cold, freezing, almost as though it were made of endlessly chilly and unmelting ice.)

“Fine.” She sighed softly, leaning away, she couldn’t quite face Blake.

“They’re getting dangerous.” Blake pointed out quietly, watching the way their shared string still wriggled in contempt on Weiss’ pinky. No matter how strong the bond between them grew, without the calming of the one around her throat—it would be reluctant to stop hurting her. She had struck gold with Sun, for some reason befriending him right off the bat had rendered their connection docile except for the occasional attempt at preventing her pain. (Which she would always be endlessly thankful for.)

“I know.” Weiss uttered faintly.

“We’re starting to get more and more missions.” Blake pointed out again.

“I know.” She repeated herself.

“If anything happens, we’ll protect you.”

The rush of emotion that surged inside of her at those words was enough for Weiss to release a startled laugh. “I know that too.”

A surprisingly broad smile curved Blake’s lips. “Good.”

* * *

“We haven’t talked much lately.” The voice interrupts Weiss’ sullen brooding, light and wistful sounding. She turns, releasing a surprised smile when she meets vibrant green eyes.

“Oh? Apologies then, Pyrrha.” Her words were genuine, she scooted over under the tree that she and Sun had taken to sitting underneath together and patted the blanketed ground next to her. Weiss knew that he was busy today and couldn’t sit and talk with her, but that didn’t stop her from taking a picnic blanket and going to rest under the tree. It was calming, even without Sun’s already soothing presence. “I’ve been... distracted.” She admitted cautiously.

“It’s nothing to say sorry for, Weiss.” Pyrrha chastised gently, moving to sit where Weiss had gestured. She was in casual clothing, jeans and a button up orange t-shirt. It occurred to her that she had very rarely seen her friend in such relaxed attire. “I just wanted to check in on you, make sure that you were alright.”

“I...” Weiss trailed off with a sigh, bringing her knees to her chest and looking out at the campus extended out to them. “Truth be told, I’m troubled, but it’s nothing that you have to worry about.”

A beat passed. “Is it your strings?”

“Well, actually—wait.” She froze.

“Yes?” Pyrrha asked, tilting her head. There was something in her gaze, a knowing quality that set her hair on end.

“You can _see _ them?” Weiss asked in a blind panic, flinching away from Pyrrha as a reflex.

“Not quite, though Nora can—she’s told me... well, she’s quite worried about you and the rest of your team.” Pyrrha admitted softly, watching Weiss with sudden apprehension. “Apparently, what little her... _family_ managed to tell her didn’t cover what to do when one of your friends is getting choked out by the things that are supposed to bring you a chance at happiness.”

Weiss stared quietly, suddenly aware that the tightness in her throat had nothing to do with the string wrapped around it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She uttered quietly, looking down at her left knee, where Pyrrha’s thread lazily looped around.

“You were under no obligation to.” Pyrrha waved her words away with a smile. “We aren’t as close as you are with your team, it’s completely understandable.”

But Weiss wasn’t so sure, they were joined together still—and even if they weren’t as close as she was with the others, that didn’t change the fact that they apparently had the potential to hold each other dearly. Weiss wondered what Nora knew, what she had told Pyrrha, and finally if her friend even knew who she was tied to.

“...is it too much to ask what Nora could do with the strings?” Weiss asked quietly, not quite able to voice the other questions she had been contemplating.

“No, she told me that if you asked or brought up the topic to tell you, she was actually _very _ adamant on you knowing.” A huff of fondness mixed with exasperation. “She can grant someone a temporary sight, it only lasts a minute or so...” Pyrrha’s smile went impossibly softer, and there was a sudden hardness to the areas around her mouth. Strange, considering how gentle and serene she still looked. “She’s been reluctant about sharing that ability, one can’t help but wonder why.” Her eyes became obviously serious, as though Pyrrha understood more about the situation around her then she was letting on. 

“And why couldn’t Nora tell me herself?” Weiss asked after a moment, trying to ignore the sense of dread that her friend’s words had brought her.

“How did she put it?” Pyrrha wondered, her lips suddenly curved in something mischievous. “Something like you _‘don’t deserve to know unless you can get your head out of your ass’_ or something similar?” 

Weiss blinked for a moment, startlingly aware of the fact that Pyrrha was looking at her face and trying not to laugh. “The first day in our teams, at the dorms.” Weiss realized, “When you two saw Blake and I...” 

“Yes.” Pyrrha nodded her head, “She and Ren told us right away of her strange ability, of yours.”

“Mine?” Weiss asked incredulously. 

“She saw the remnants of the string you’d cut on the ground before it ‘_faded_’, Nora’s as smart as a whip when she wants to be.” The last part was said slightly chastising, as though Pyrrha wanted to tell her to stop underestimating the people around her.

It was good advice, Weiss thought grimly, she’d do well to take it.

“But why are you telling me this now?” She asked her after a moment, turning to face Pyrrha and not being able to hide the confused furrow in her brow. “I thought Nora said...” She grimaced. “I’m not repeating it.”

Her friend smiled, the look of amusement on her face enough to make Weiss bristle slightly. Though of course Weiss didn’t do much about it, only sat there sullenly. She knew better than to lash out at Pyrrha, not that she’d ever want to. 

“Nora said it was fine.” She reassured her gently. “I noticed that Jaune and Ren have been taking bets to see who would tell you first.” There was a twinkle in her eye now. “I _may_ have just tipped the scales in Ren’s favor.”

“Why not Jaune?”

“This will teach him not to gamble with his lunch money.” Pyrrha said simply, as though the conclusion was obvious.

Weiss couldn’t help her appreciative smile, “Cold blooded.”

“Are you describing yourself now?” She shot back.

“Funny.” Weiss rolled her eyes. She looked up at the sky for a moment, noticing that it was a perfect day for cloud watching. 

Pyrrha, because of course she did, noticed. “Want to lay down?” She asked, a teasing tone to her voice that made Weiss’ lips curve downward.

“...maybe.” She mumbled, stubbornly looking away from her friend and scooting down the blanket in order to lay on it, pushing down the flush in her cheeks. Weiss inwardly chastised herself on being so obvious, but a small part of her was pleasantly surprised that Pyrrha had managed to notice. 

Pyrrha laughed, moving to join her. 

They stayed like that for a little while, watching the clouds in the sky. It was nice, and Weiss realized that she had missed Pyrrha and her gentle teasing. She closed her eyes, trying to bite back the smile that had worked its way onto her face. She was slowly growing more and more used to the presence of friends. Even as it felt as though the experiences were fleeting, as though they would end sometime soon, Weiss couldn’t help but hope they would last.

“You shouldn’t fear much.” Pyrrha said quietly, Weiss turned her head to face her, watching as she looked straight up at the clouds. “Nora absolutely refused to tell anyone who they were tied to...” A sigh escaped her lips, “A shame, though she did point out all of our team was bonded together.”

Weiss snorted, turning back to look up at the sky. “I would tell you, but Nora can be rather fearsome when she wants to be.” She grimaced, “I think the consequences of doing something she wouldn’t approve of would be... severe.”

“Yes, I’ve assumed that as well.” Pyrrha agreed with a laugh. 

“Though,” Weiss hedged, “I can tell you one or two, in the spirit of fairness, and all that.”

“...what?” Pyrrha stopped looking at the clouds to turn and face her, though Weiss stayed stubbornly facing skyward.

“Well, you and I have one, _obviously_, and you have a couple silver tinged strings, which means family.” She rattled off, her eyes switching from the clouds to the strings floating just above her.

“Ah.” Pyrrha said, sounding delighted. “Thank you—”

“And you have a very pure shade of white around your neck.” Weiss interrupted quietly. “Did you know that the color of a person’s string depends on who it’s tied to? For example, you clearly know someone with a white aura so your thread radiates that.”

“I—Weiss...” Pyrrha suddenly sounded very flustered. “Did you just—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Weiss said, turning to look back at Pyrrha. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t quite help but wink at her friend.

“Weiss you didn’t have to—” A laugh escaped her, cutting her off mid sentence, “—you _just_ said that Nora could be fearsome when she wanted to be.”

“Yes, well.” Weiss turned back to look up at the sky, a smile on her face. “Best you keep it to yourself then, don’t you think?” Pyrrha snorted, and Weiss’ lips curved upward just the slightest bit more. “Besides, if she learns of it this will teach her to keep information from her dear _dear_ friends.”

“Thank you.” Pyrrha said, so earnest and genuine that Weiss found herself shifting uncomfortably. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are we connected from?” It was a simple question, but she couldn't quite help the small tinge of unease in her stomach.

“My left knee to your right.” Weiss said hesitantly, looking at the aforementioned string. It was glowing just a little bit more than before, the fiery red slowly going lighter shades until it turned into the pale blue that belonged to Pyrrha. 

“Stability, then.” She said after a moment, smiling serenely.

“Pardon?” Weiss asked, frowning a little in confusion.

“Well, knees are used to keep you standing, aren’t they? And you’re left handed, and I’m right handed—so we favor those sides of ourselves.” Pyrrha explained after a moment, looking Weiss in the eye and smiling broadly. The look on her face was so genuine and soft that Weiss felt that she had been punched in the stomach. “So, stability.”

“That’s...” She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “...certainly a _wholesome_ way of looking at it, yes.” Weiss cringed when her tone came out as more skeptical sounding than anything else.

“Your words could be interpreted as sarcastic or cruel if not for the smile on your face, you ought to be careful with that.” Pyrrha reprimanded her slightly, reaching up to flick her on the forehead.

Weiss swatted her hand away, glaring at her. “Wow, just _submerging_ me in deep philosophical statements meant to send me through a crisis of morality, aren’t you?” She asked sarcastically, ignoring the way that Pyrrha started to laugh.

“Of course!” She played along easily, setting a hand over her chest as though wounded Weiss would suggest otherwise. “It’s been some time since we last spoke, I have to make up for it all.”

“Sure you do.” Weiss scoffed, but there was no hiding the faint smile on her face.

* * *

When Weiss was a child, her mother had whispered bedtime stories to her and her children in the manor’s library. She was a wonderful storyteller, as odd as it may have seemed now. She could spin tales of love and loss and tragedy—before wrapping it up with a happy ending to soothe her children’s hurt as easy as breathing. As they grew older, Winter had begun to become more and more involved with the company at their father’s insistence, so often it was only Weiss and Whitley sitting with their mother as she told them stories. This is one of the few fond memories she has left with Willow Schnee, one of the few things from her mother that she tucked behind the bars of her ribcage, nestled next to her heart. 

Weiss wondered if Whitley felt the same.

It was a nice thought, the idea that her brother might share some good memories, might silently cherish some of the same things. Lately, however, she was becoming less and less sure that she had any right to be in those adored memories of his—to the point that she began to doubt that she was in them at all. Despite this, the unknowing and the heavy weight of self deprecation hard on her shoulders, she found herself trying again and again anyway. 

One such thing she did was call her brother every Friday afternoon after classes. He never answered, but she always called him anyway. She never missed one, and they always came at the same time. Calls to Atlas had to be done in the school library, not that Weiss minded much. Usually after she failed to get a hold of him she left the call room and went into the main floor of the library to finish any homework she had left. (Plus any extra credit work the teachers had assigned.)

So, it’s completely understandable that when she flopped down into the desk, selected the option for an audio only call, and slipped on the headset—she was _not_ prepared for the telltale sound of him actually answering. Weiss jumped, knocking the headset off her ears and nearly yanking it out of the sound system by accident.

“You... answered.” She didn’t mean to sound so awed, didn’t mean for the surprise in her voice to be so overwhelming. The idea that after everything that happened her brother might be willing to speak with her was truly a concept she hadn't managed to grasp.

“Wonderful observational skills as always, sister, truly you have overwhelmed me with your powers of perception.” Whitley snarked, and his voice was such a strange thing to hear after such a long time. It was the same as usual, filled with slightly slimy contempt and a tone to his voice that meant he was obviously plotting something. Even so, Weiss couldn’t bring it in herself to mind. “Honestly, not even a hello, have your manners diminished as well as your insight?”

“...yes, you do have a point.” She murmured after a moment, even if it was out of place to say so Whitley did have a point—losing her decorum like that was unacceptable. Even though she cared for her brother, she knew better than to give him the benefit of the doubt, he would use anything in this call against her. Weiss rubbed at her eyes tiredly, silently hating their upbringing and how it had affected them. “Apologies.”

The call went silent. 

“...you aren’t biting back.” Whitley said after a moment, his tone was soft, but there was a bubbling rage in shrouding his words that made Weiss wince. She knew he didn’t mean to, knew that she and Winter could sound like that when they weren’t paying attention to their voice, but she couldn’t help the soft trickle of fear that came with the sound.

“Pardon?” She asked, even though she knew what he had meant. The last time they had a chance to talk to each other it had been on far less amicable terms, so it was no surprise that Whitley would be wary with any action even bordering _neutrality_, the fact that she had apologized to him must have been out of nowhere to him. She wondered if she wouldn’t have said sorry to him before she’d attended Beacon, and frowned at the thought. 

Her time here had changed her hadn’t it?

As though reading her thoughts, Whitley continued speaking. “You’re _supposed_ to bite back, don’t tell me Beacon Academy has _defanged_ you.” He used the word ‘defanged’ as though it was an insult, as though the fact that her small act of a calmer nature not quite belonging to her was scornful.

“I’m not looking for a fight.” Weiss said, thinking of her apology. Who did she know who would’ve apologized for a misstep in social etiquette? 

“That’s certainly new.” Whitley’s tone was scathing, something meant to bait her. Why was he so insistent on a fight? If he didn’t want to talk to her he could’ve just not answered the call, could it be he simply wished to rehash what had spit them apart in the first place? But why would he want that, if not for some type of closure or healing? Whitley wasn’t the type to seek out help or happiness, especially not after what happened.

“Not necessarily.” She said, her voice a little sharp, thinking about all the fights at the manor that she could’ve gotten in—with him, with the staff, with her father—there were a great many more avoided then met head on. Weiss wondered if all Whitley saw of her were the arguments where she put herself in the path of a punishment from her father. 

“I thought you said you weren’t looking for a fight.” Whitley said delightedly, picking up on the tone of her voice.

Weiss couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. “Just because I am unwilling to be cruel to you does not mean I am unwilling to correct you, especially when it comes to myself.” She looked down at her hands. A sudden though plagued her, and dread danced down her spine—what if she had no right to correct him when it came to herself? What if not only was she blind on the subject of strings, but the subject of herself as well? She dismissed the thoughts, she was slowly but surely starting to overthink everything more than she already did, and she didn't need to have another crisis while on a call with her brother.

“Hmm.” Whitley cut off her train of thought, something that she was silently thankful for. “So, what’s new with you sister?” He asked pleasantly, “I overheard the most _delicious_ rumor about some of your endeavors at Beacon...” He trailed off suggestively, and she could almost feel the smirk on his face.

“Oh?” She asked flatly, not even being able to fake her interest and resisting the urge to sigh. “Do tell.”

“Don’t play the fool, sister, it was never a flattering look on you.” The pleasant tone of his voice was gone in an instant, a hiss replacing the saccharine sweetness he had been playing with earlier.

“Is that the only reason you answered the phone call today?” She asked quietly. “Because you’d heard what happened?”

“Well, karma is a _blessed_ thing.” He insisted.

“It can be.” Weiss agreed softly, her hand going to the thread around her neck. She squeezed it, as though going to it for comfort, but the wretched (not wretched, she should _really_ stop thinking of it as wretched) thing only grew cold with her touch. She nearly hissed, quickly drawing her fingers away at the sudden drop in temperature. 

_Rude_, she couldn’t help but think.

As though it could hear her, the string only grew colder—sending a shiver down her spine. It was like it was made of ice, a chill that constantly pressed against her neck. Her string often ran cold, but somehow knowing that she could never quite learn to anticipate the sudden frozen thread wrapped around her throat.

“What’s the saying, an eye for an eye?” Whitley continued, oblivious from his sister’s turmoil. “Though I do suppose in this case it’s an eye for an eye and also one of your arms.”

His words weren’t so clever, but Weiss wasn’t in the mood to tell him so. “I certainly won’t dispute that.” She said instead, not being able to stop herself from rolling her eyes. 

She was sure she finally understood why Whitley was calling, he’d felt divine justice had been done—felt as though what was happening to her was a more than fitting punishment for her. It was kind of... disappointing, despite the fact that she was sure she deserved it. She could hardly expect Whitley to _actually_ want to talk to her, he was young and full of spite (the same as her) it wasn’t as though if their situations were reversed she’d be any more enthusiastic about talking to him.

So, instead of prodding back at him and potentially making things worse, she decided that she was better off grinning and bearing it. (Though of course that was only a figure of speech, she would not be smiling throughout the duration of this encounter with him.)

“You aren’t making this any fun.” He said suddenly.

“Pardon?”

“You’re supposed to fight back.” He snapped scornfully. “You’re just agreeing with everything I’m saying! It’s _pathetic_, don’t you have anything better to do then this? Honestly, calling me so often, it’s disturbing even—you should just stop trying, you aren’t going to make anything better, every attempt you make at fixing anything _always_ breaks—”

“Ow!” Her hand flew to her right ear, grimacing as it began to tighten and burn. A blustering that caused a hiss to flee her mouth, she brought her hand down wet. Weiss glanced at her fingertips, her eyes widening at the sight of red staining them. The string had broken the skin, something that hadn’t happened in a little while. 

“Weiss?” Could that be worry in his voice? So soon after he was trying to emotionally destroy her? It was enough to make a bitter smile surge on her face, twisting up her lips as though she’d tasted something sour.

“It’s nothing.” She managed out, her voice a rasp. 

“I’m sure.” An awkward beat of silence, in the background of the call a loud slam rang out. “I have to go.” Whitley said quietly, though his tone was slightly rushed.

“I understand.” Weiss conceded.

“Do you?”

She went quiet suddenly, did he really think she wouldn’t? Weiss knew what it was like to be with their father, to be in a constant mode of wariness—having to keep a watch over yourself and the people around you just in case you did something wrong in front of the wrong people. It was an exhausting existence. “I would never forget.” She uttered softly.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” He asked, bitterness leaking out of his voice like radiation.

The string around her ear began to burn, and Weiss grit her teeth in an effort not to let out a cry of pain. “If you like, I can stop calling—”

Whitley scoffed and hung up the scroll before she could finish speaking.

Well, Weiss thought, her hand going back to her ear and cradling it, though he had suggested she give up he didn’t exactly _say_ he wanted her to stop calling. 

_Score one for me, I suppose._

* * *

“Weiss!” Ruby zoomed forward in a burst of rose petals, her eyes wide and expression set. It was almost as though she was consciously attempting to do a serious face. It was almost stupidly adorable, her cheeks puffed out in what she probably thought made her look more mature. 

How childish, Weiss thought fondly, and then chastised herself for allowing Ruby to distract her.

“Hello, Ruby.” She said, raising a brow and looking around the dorm room. It looked as though they were the only ones in at the moment, Blake and Yang probably on some type of date. It was Friday, after all. It was a curious thing, watching the way their relationship with each other was beginning to bloom, a flower in spring.

“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet for a little while... ever since you last talked to your sister you’ve been...” Ruby took a moment to think, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Distant.” Ruby said this as though it was significant to her in some invisible way that Weiss could not see. There was something bubbling under the surface of her partner's skin, an urgentness that she didn't recognize.

“I’ve had quite the hectic couple of days, I think.” Weiss admitted quietly, a wry grin on her face. She yawned into the palm of her hand before running her hand through her bangs, flicking her hair out of her face.

“What’s that mean?” Ruby asked with a frown, her brows furrowed in obvious concern.

She considered what to tell Ruby after a moment, before settling on what had occurred earlier. “My younger brother called me... about ten minutes ago, actually.”

“You’re a big sister?!”

“Yes.” Weiss frowned at the surprise in her voice. “I’ve mentioned Whitley before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, um, it’s just you never said he was _younger_ than you.” Ruby said sheepishly, tugging at her hair nervously. A steady blush was beginning to grow on her face, she was obviously embarrassed about her earlier exclamation. 

“...is something the matter?” Weiss didn’t understand why Ruby was taking an issue with it, surely it didn’t matter if she was older than Whitley, right? She pursed her lips, resolving herself. Perhaps she had stepped on another social land mine, and she cursed her carelessness at the thought. Despite the fact that she was quite adept at navigating the social waters of Atlas, she was not doing so well when it came to the 'normal everyday' conversations that she had with her friends.

(Though, Sun was trying to teach her to be a little better at that. Not that it was helping, considering the fact that he was just as socially inept as she was, just in a different way.)

“I’m only a little disappointed.” Ruby said, obviously embarrassed and turning her face away from Weiss' gaze. “I just thought it was cool that we were both the youngest.” 

It was clear that Ruby did not want Weiss to press the issue, so she forced herself to swallow her suddenly burning curiosity. “Oh.” She said as calmly and uninterested as she could manage. “Well, I do apologize for that misconception.” She tilted her head, glancing down to the side with her lips pursed in thought.

_Why had that been significant?_

“It’s fine, partner!” Ruby hastily reassured her, raising her palms in an open and apologetic way. She seemed as though she was painfully mortified and wanted to clear up the situation as soon as possible. “I mean technically we both still have older sisters so it’s not so bad that you’re a middle child.”

“Not so bad?” Weiss asked with a frown, her head snapping back up to look back at Ruby.

Her partner froze, the blush on her face fading from her rapidly paling face. “Um, I mean it’s totally cool that you’re a middle child, no complaints no issues no problems, nope!” She squeaked out, her movements sporadic and rapid.

“...quite.” Weiss said after a moment, trying not to let her confusion show too clearly and failing.

“Anyway, is everything okay?” Ruby asked before quickly adding, “And don’t distract me again.”

“You distracted yourself.” Weiss snarked back, moving further into the room to set down her book bag. She settled on her bed, sighing as she finally got to sit down—it wasn’t a long walk to the dorm from the library, but the call from Whitley had left her more exhausted then she thought she'd ever been before. “And everything is... _fine_.”

“Doesn’t sound fine.” Ruby chirped, sliding into the desk seat, scooting closer to Weiss’ bunk than was strictly necessary. 

“We have a complicated relationship.” She revealed hesitantly, turning to look away from Ruby’s burning silver gaze.

“...you have a lot of complicated relationships.” Ruby noted quietly. There was something in her tone of voice that made Weiss distinctly uncomfortable, as though Ruby had seen something that Weiss hadn’t meant her to.

“And you’ve only just noticed that?” She managed to snipe at her, but her heart wasn’t really in it. There was a part of her that didn’t want to talk to Ruby about this, but there was a much larger (much more desperate) part of her that wanted to spill her guts—take a knife to her stomach and reveal everything and anything that was wrong. It took her off guard, her desire to actually _talk _ to Ruby, and she didn’t know how to handle the idea of opening herself up.

“No! It’s just...” Ruby paused, and the expression that passed on her face was a mixture between resolved and sad. “Well I hoped things would’ve been easier for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She tensed, her eyes boring holes into Ruby’s own. Her shoulders were stiff, her body tense and braced for a potential argument. 

“Nothing bad, Weiss.” She was quick to reassure. “I just—well, I mean I just hoped that there was a chance that you’d have a little... good time?” Ruby winced, biting her lip and scrambling over her words. “I mean, like, with everything that has been happening lately I’d hoped... well.” She sighed.

“I get what you’re trying to tell me.” Weiss said after it was clear Ruby wasn’t going to talk anymore, her mouth glued shut. Weiss turned away from her, looking down at her heels and reaching down to tug them off. She found that Ruby had hoped that even throughout her pain now she would’ve had some happy times to look back on, or some nice and simple relationships that wouldn’t hurt her.

She paused and wondered when she’d learned to decipher her partner’s word vomit.

“Really? That’s a relief.” Ruby said with a sigh, leaning back into the desk chair, it spun a little—not that she seemed to care, or notice.

“Is it?” Weiss asked when she finally managed to get her heels off. She sat up straighter in her bed, crossing her legs and pressing her skirt down with her palms. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I could stand it if you were ever actually mad at me, I mean we bicker sometimes but that’s different.” Ruby admitted, laughing a little, the sound of nerves creeping back into her voice. 

Weiss considered her for a moment, her face thoughtful. “How so?”

“I mean...” There was a blush on Ruby’s cheeks now. “I say something to you so you’ll say something back, and I noticed that we tend to...” She cleared her throat, putting her hand to her cape and moving to adjust the collar of her school uniform. 

Weiss watched as her fingers inadvertently brushed her string, still circling Ruby like a hawk. She grimaced, her hand automatically going to her neck as the string squirmed uncomfortably. It wasn’t a painful sensation, it was only like the thread had reacted to the feeling of Ruby’s skin—as though something that it had wanted for so long (Ruby) and that brush of her fingertips was a taste, a touch of something divine. Weiss’ mouth pulled into a thin line as she watched her blood red string squirm in something close to euphoria. 

“What the—” Ruby trailed off, her hand lingering where her string had been. She brought her palm close to her chest, staring at her fingers as though they held every answer in the universe. “That was weird.” She frowned down at her fingers.

Weiss braced herself, preparing for the worst, only to find that for some odd reason her string had begun to loosen it’s way around her throat. She peeked one eye open, finding that Ruby was looking at her strangely. 

“What’s with that?” Ruby asked, looking suddenly very shaken. “You... you looked...” She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

She tilted her head, considering for a moment. It wouldn’t do to lie to Ruby in this moment, where she was clearly (and oddly) very vulnerable. “You touched one.”

“I... what?” Ruby looked suddenly dazed, her eyes a little glossy and her face pale.

“You touched one.” Weiss repeated, a little slower this time.

“A string?!” She snapped back to attention, a mixture of panic and awe on her face.

“Yes, it’s quite strange...” Weiss conceded, bringing her hand to her mouth and thumbing her chin in thought. “I didn’t know that you _could_ touch them, you should probably ask Blake about it.” She paused. “Or Nora.”

“Nora?” Ruby asked blankly.

“She can see them too, Pyrrha tells me.” Weiss explained, eyeing her partner uncertainty. There was an odd look on her face, like she was piecing together some puzzle or problem that she couldn’t make any sense of. She didn’t like that look, it was the same that Ruby got in battle, right before she came up with an idea to brutally destroy their adversaries. 

Something in her chest clenched at the fact that it was directed at her.

“You told Pyrrha?” Ruby asked after a moment, the look on her face washing away. There was a twinge of uncertainty in her features, with her lips curled downward and chewing on the inside of her cheek. Ruby couldn’t hide her deliberating from Weiss, they were on similar enough wavelengths for her to understand that Ruby had noticed something that could be important later. Weiss just wished what Ruby had pieced together wasn't obviously about her.

“She figured it out on her own.” Weiss explained tiredly, before rolling her eyes. “With help from Nora of course.”

“...oh.”

Weiss inwardly grimaced, only just managing to keep her expression calm. “Yes, I’m rather thankful for her, our string has soothed itself since our talk—though Pyrrha’s was never particularly cruel, it reacted just like the rest of them.”

“Was it like Sun’s in the beginning?” Ruby asked, before flushing uncomfortably. “Sorry, that was insensitive, I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It was...” Weiss interjected, her voice quiet and thoughtful. “It was kind up to a point, much like who it’s tied to.” She sighed, running an agitated hand through her hair. All of this talk of strings was making Weiss jittery, it felt like all she ever talked to Ruby for. (Objectively she knew that wasn’t true, that as Ruby had put it they tended to bicker and tease one another—but she couldn’t shake the thought.)

“Weiss—” Ruby began with a sigh, before pausing. Her eyes grew wide, and she seemed to fly from her seat to the spot directly in front of Weiss. “Is that _blood_ in your hair?”

Weiss recoiled immediately. “What do you—oh, yes.” She braced her arms behind her, frowning at Ruby and her sudden closeness. She was a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten about her injury, and looked away from Ruby’s face. “A consequence of talking to my brother it seems.”

“What do you mean by _that_?” The question fled her mouth in a flurry of rushed horror, and Weiss froze when Ruby tentatively brushed away the hair near her ear. Her finger paused, very slowly starting to move toward her injured ear.

“It’s nothing bad, Ruby.” Weiss said gently, reaching up to carefully grab Ruby’s wrist in order to prevent her from touching it. “My siblings and I are tied together by the ears, I have Whitley on my right one and Winter on my left.”

“That would be cute if you didn’t have dried blood in your hair.” Ruby quipped.

“Apologies.” Weiss’ voice was soft, earnest. It felt like she was saying sorry for much more than the blood in her hair.

Ruby eyed her for a moment, and the atmosphere of the room was filled with tension in the seconds that she remained quiet. They stayed like that, their eyes on each other, a silent staring contest. Ruby’s eyes were silver, a bright liquid mercury, but in the darker shades Weiss noticed odd flecks of a pure white color in them. It was almost as though there were literal stars in the underlying darkness of her eyes, and Weiss could scarcely find the desire to look away.

Finally, Ruby sighed, tugging away her wrist from Weiss’ grip. “You don’t seem very sorry.” She mumbled, an unexpected blush dancing like fire across her cheekbones.

Weiss frowned. She hoped that Ruby wasn’t actually too chagrined with her behavior. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Wait, what?” If anything, that seemed to make her partner more flustered. 

“How can I make it up to you?” Weiss repeated, resisting the urge to scowl. Perhaps this had been the wrong way to go about the situation, but it wasn’t as though she could take it back.

“Ummm... I dunno.” Ruby said, inching backward before flopping back into the desk chair. She spun in it for a few moments, a thoughtful pout on her face. “Is it alright if I ask you a question? I mean I would’ve asked anyway if you weren’t saying stuff like ‘how can I make it up to you’ but—”

“Ruby, of course you can ask me a question.” Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You can always ask me questions... answering them can be... hard, but for _you_ I’d try.” 

“Oh.” Ruby paused, blinking. A smile slowly grew onto her face, it was different then the ones that Weiss had seen before. The way Ruby smiled was something that Weiss couldn’t seem to forget, they were always charged with emotion—happiness, amusement, fondness—but this one seemed different somehow. It was secretive and filled with a type of warmth that made her head spin. “Thank you.”

_What was this thing? _ She wondered. _What is it that I’m feeling?_

“It’s really not a big deal.” Weiss said, suddenly awkward. Her cheeks felt warm, and there was a churning in her stomach that she was unfamiliar with—like a thousand tiny wings were fluttering against her ribcage, barely brushing at her insides, touching only enough to make things tickle.

“Yes it is.” Ruby insisted cheerily, that same smile still on her face. “Thank you.”

Weiss’ cheeks didn’t stop burning, and she coughed into the palm of her hand in an attempt to soothe the flush on her face. “...your question?” She managed to ask, unsure whether to be thankful or regretful at her attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, right!” Ruby laughed, ruffling a bit of her hair, and Weiss felt as though something had punched her in the gut. “I just wanted to ask about my strings, Blake won’t tell me much about them.” She pouted here. “It’s not like I was gonna _do_ anything about it, I was just curious.”

“...I see.” Weiss hedged, turning her face away. “I can tell you a little, if you like.”

“Awesome!” Ruby cheered. “We can make a game out of it, like I can take a guess and you can tell me whether I’m right or not.”

“Alright.” She nodded, “If that’s what you want.”

“Hmmm...” Ruby pretended to stroke a beard, her look exaggerated to the point where Weiss had to bite back a smile. “Wait, do I even have any other strings then our team?”

“Yes.” Weiss nodded, looking at her strings, there were three that Weiss didn’t know. One around her left bicep and two tied around her ankles. The glowed silver. “Though two of them look familial.”

“Oh, probably Dad and Uncle Qrow.” Ruby bounced excitedly, “Where are they?” She jumped out of the chair and flopping into Weiss’ bunk, making her scowl. “Can you show me?”

Weiss pursed her lips, swallowing a little before nodding her head. She couldn’t find it in herself to make her voice work. She reached out, tapping Ruby’s ankles—careful not to let her fingers brush against the strings lest she accidentally cut them. She forgot to account for the fact that she would be touching Ruby, and as soon as her hands brushed against the skin of Ruby’s ankles—she froze.

“Wow your hands are cold.” Ruby said, oblivious, her shoes were off—her socks littered with tiny cartoon barn animals. She reached, grabbing Weiss’ hands before she could pull away. “Can you show me?”

“Ah...” Weiss trailed off, blinking for a moment. Ruby’s hands burned against hers. “Of course.” The words escaped her mouth before she could think about them.

She grasped one of Ruby’s palms in her hands, looking down and smiling. “Technically, you’re already touching one.”

“Really?” Ruby tugged Weiss closer to her with her hands. “Which one?”

“Blake’s.” Weiss explained, “It’s around the palm of your right hand.” She grasped Ruby’s fingers, closing them around the string. She looked up at Ruby, and couldn’t help the warm slanted smile that made its way on her face.

Ruby looked up, her eyes going down to look at her mouth, before returning to Weiss’ eyes. Her smile was bright, her teeth shining. She frowned for a moment, thinking to herself.“...wait how many strings do I have?”

“All of them?” Weiss asked.

“All of them.” Ruby affirmed.

“Six.” Weiss said.

“Six?!” Ruby whined, “But that means I’m only connected to one person off the team.”

“You’re actually connected to two non-team members.” Weiss said, looking pointedly at the string around her left bicep and the one around her chest.

“Wow, Weiss.” Ruby said, rolling her eyes. “You must have forgotten to count yourself or something... can’t believe you don’t know how to count.”

“I can count perfectly fine!” Weiss protested, about to raise a hand to slap at Ruby’s shoulder, only to realize she was still holding her right hand with both of them. She didn’t know how to pull away, looking to the side and flushing while she mumbled “...though I did neglect to consider myself.”

_Mainly because we aren’t tied together._

“Ha!” Ruby laughed with a grin. “Not so perfect now, are ya?”

“Yes, yes it’s very funny.” Weiss rolled her eyes, beginning to pull her hands away.

“Wait!” Ruby protested, using her other hand to grasp at where Weiss was holding hers. “Show me the other ones, I want to know, please let me know.”

She froze, there was a look in Ruby’s eyes that was strange. She’d looked so happy and playful just a moment before, what had changed that? Something in her chest warmed, and Weiss realized that saying no to Ruby Rose had grown into something much harder than it had been before.

“Of course.” Weiss whispered quietly. “Of course.” She repeated quietly, lowering her gaze and trying to summon a bit of courage.

She grabbed her right palm, taking Ruby’s fingers and settling them into position on her left forearm. Yang’s thread hummed at Ruby’s touch, and Weiss couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped her lungs. It glowed a brilliant silver, somehow making the molten gold more beautiful than before, her eyes traced the string watching as it extended through the window—very slowly turning red the further down she looked. “This is your sister’s.” She whispered quietly, aware of the fact that Ruby’s gaze lingered over her face before going to the place Weiss had touched. Ruby’s fingers twitched for a moment, brushing against the back of Weiss’ retreating palm. 

She swallowed, taking the same hand and carefully dragging it up to Ruby’s bicep, where a pure white string that slowly began to turn red lazily enveloped her right bicep. She could hardly stand it, being so close to Ruby—and it occurred to her suddenly that she could have just pointed them out, that she didn’t have to take Ruby’s hand and place them on the marks of her soul. The thought was something she brushed aside, it almost felt _wrong_, blasphemous—showing Ruby where the strings were without the appropriate amount of care. “A friend’s.” Weiss explained quietly.

“Who?” Ruby asked, her voice just as silent as Weiss’. It seemed she’d picked up on the strange atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped them.

Weiss couldn’t help but tease her, just a little. “You’re going to have to guess.” She said, and then (because she had no self control) winked.

“Maybe later.” Ruby rasped hurriedly. “Show me the last two.”

“Two?” Weiss asked, a frown marring the smile that had once been on her face.

“I want to know where yours is too.” Ruby explained quietly, her eyes suddenly very serious. “Won’t you tell me?”

Weiss shook her head, looking down stubbornly, unable to take looking Ruby in the eye. “That’s...” She couldn’t say it was something personal, because Ruby thought that they were connected, thought that the situation was about the both of them. She closed her eyes tightly.

“Oh.” Ruby said, her voice soft and a little sad. 

And the fear that gripped Weiss was something that she would never forget, it was like a thousand icy hands were desperately tearing at her body, like someone had accelerated her heart to beat so fast that it felt like it might actually jump out of her chest.

“You don’t have to tell me where we’re connected.” Ruby said, and as always her tone was endlessly kind.

Weiss nearly slumped her shoulders, the breathless sigh escaping her mouth obvious and not hideable. “Thank you.” She blinked back the burning in her eyes, and lifted her head, “I’ll show you the last one.” Weiss murmured, realizing that throughout it all, they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, bringing Ruby’s right hand and laying it right over her chest. Her heart beat thunderously in her chest, pounding and pounding and pounding as she slowly looked up to meet Ruby's eyes. She lucked out, because Ruby wasn't looking at her, instead her eyes of molten silver were staring at their joined hands—just above where Ruby's heart was. Weiss found herself examining her partner's face, silently committing every one of her features to memory. She didn't want to forget this moment, for some reason, didn't want to forget the look on Ruby's face—almost as though she was longing for something. Weiss forced herself to take a deep breath, forced herself to rip her eyes away from Ruby's visage, but it was far too late—her partner's beauty was burned into the back of her eyelids, something that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

It was quiet for a moment, the silence pervading every single one of her senses somehow—it was as though she could focus on nothing but the lack of words between them, only their soft breathing audible. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything else—the feeling of her heart beating in her chest, the feel of Ruby’s skin on her own, the smell of strawberry shampoo—anything to escape the sudden silence. Nothing seemed to work, and Weiss felt as though her chest was caving in on itself, as though (as strange as it sounded, as strange as it _felt_) her heart was crumbling in the hands of someone else, falling apart like wet sand slowly squeezed in a person's fist.

Weiss hadn't meant for this to be so intimate.

“Weiss?” Ruby asked, her voice shaky.

“Yes?” She blinked her eyes open, cautiously peering into Ruby’s face. Her expression was impossibly soft, imploring and gentle—Weiss could barely stand to look away.

“Can I ask you another question?” Her voice was quiet, a reverent whisper.

“Feel free.”

“Why...” Ruby hesitated, abruptly changing her thought process, setting Weiss on edge immediately. “Why was there blood in your hair? I mean, you and your brother, what happened there?”

And it was like a spell had been broken, Weiss flinched backward, letting go of Ruby’s palms and almost tumbling off of her mattress in an attempt to get away. Ruby let out a surprised shout, surging forward to catch Weiss before she fell to the floor.

“Weiss!” Ruby yelped, she was gripping her by her waist, her hands warm and strong. Ruby pulled her closer, settling her back comfortably on her bed. “Be careful!” She chastised, “What if I hadn’t caught you?”

“Sorry.” Weiss said automatically, very aware of the fact that Ruby was holding her closely. She gently pushed away from her, and all of a sudden the cold of the string around her neck was very obvious. “You surprised me.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened.” Ruby said, her voice sounding serious. “If it’s enough to make you jump, then it’s probably really heavy stuff.” She patted her shoulder, “I’m sorry about that, Weiss.”

“It’s fine, Ruby.” She managed, overcome with the sudden desire to spill her guts about everything that had happened. “Whitley, he blames me for...” Weiss trailed off, hugging her knees to her chest and looking stubbornly away from her partner.

“For what?” Ruby asked her gently.

“It was an accident, I didn’t know that...” She swallowed again. “I didn’t know Father was eavesdropping.” The words came out of her mouth in a pained hiss, and all of a sudden the string around her ear was burning again. She flinched, and couldn’t help but feel confused. Sure, her emotions regarding her siblings could set off the other threads—but they had never harmed Weiss themselves. Whitley’s string ripping open her ear was an outlier.

“Weiss...” Ruby started, only to be cut off.

“It’s my fault that his... his bonded are gone, Father got... he got rid of them.” The string belonging to her brother tightened, and she grimaced when she reached up and felt blood.

“What do you mean—”

“He had them killed, Ruby.” Weiss snapped back, still unable to look at her. “On accident or on purpose I cannot say, but the end result was that Whitley’s strings were gone one morning, and the only way that happens is if... well, I’m sure you get my meaning.”

“Weiss.” Ruby said softly, scooting closer to her and drawing her into a hug, a hand on the back of her head as she gently set Weiss’ head on her shoulder.

She froze, abruptly coming to her senses and bracing her hands on Ruby’s arms, pushing herself away. Ruby’s hand left the back of her head, sliding from her hair and settling on her cheek. Weiss flushed red. “_Just what_ _are you_—”

“It’s not your fault.” Ruby said, pausing for a moment and seeming to realize that she was cupping Weiss’ cheek. A blush rose on her face, the tips of her ears and cheeks going pink. She coughed, moving her hand away—though not before her fingertips brushed the curve of her cheeks.

Something had changed. Weiss realized, but then she processed what Ruby had said, and righteous indignation buried that realization deep down. “Did you not hear me when I spoke? Of _course_ it’s my fault—if I had been more careful he would’ve been fine!” She scooted away from Ruby, scowling at her ferociously. How could Ruby even begin to say otherwise?

“Weiss, your dad sucks really bad.” Ruby said, a frown on her face.

Weiss rolled her eyes, “How _eloquent_ of you—”

“And this was something that _he_ did to your brother, not you.” She interjected, ignoring the barb. “Your brother’s entitled to his hurt, but so are you.” Ruby insisted, looking as though she believed every word she was saying. A pause. “Do you miss him?” Hesitance. “If it were me I think I’d miss Yang.”

Weiss felt the urge to point out that she and Yang had a very different relationship than the one between her and her brother, but the feeling died in her throat (before it even reached her lips) at the look that Ruby was giving her. 

“I don’t know.” She admitted, because she didn’t. “Sometimes I feel his loss as though it was my own, but other times he slips my mind entirely.” She grimaced, looking away from Ruby’s face. “Can I truly say that I miss him if I don’t think of him?”

“Silly Weiss.” Ruby huffed, leaning forward and blowing air into her face.

“Hey!” She flinched backward, glaring, “That was—”

“Of course you miss him, it’s obvious.” Ruby continued over her. She jerked her chin and rolled her eyes, “It’s written all over your face, partner.” She shot her a bad wink and finger guns, trying to do a strange accent over the word ‘partner.’

“It is?” Weiss asked her quietly, ignoring her attempt at lightening the mood. She didn’t know how Ruby could say with so much confidence that she obviously missed her brother, and wondered for a moment if this was one of those things that she was supposed to learn in sensitivity training. (Though she was confused, she would not be regretting her decision to skip out on the class, thank you very much.)

“Well, you're sad that this has happened aren’t you?” Ruby asked her imploringly, her eyes shining. “And you wish everything was back to the way it was before?”

“...Yes.” Weiss agreed after a moment. “I am, I do.”

“Then you miss him.” Ruby said, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back on the palms of her hands, her arms extended out behind her.

“It’s that simple?” Weiss asked.

“It’s that simple.” Ruby agreed, shooting her a rakish grin.

“I... I don’t think I understand entirely, but...” Weiss swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Weiss!” Ruby said, looking momentarily surprised. The emotion in her gaze turned softer, the sincere glittering of her silver eyes throwing Weiss momentarily off guard. “You...” Ruby smiled, earnest and embarrassed and much too charming. “You’re my best friend.”

“I...” Weiss trailed off, a loss for words. “You’re serious about that, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I mean, at first it was just funny to watch you deny it and get flustered and stuff but... well, you’re my best friend.” Ruby admitted, looking shy, and turning so she didn’t have to look Weiss in the eye. “I didn’t have too many friends growing up.”

Weiss swallowed the lump in her throat, looking down at the red string, watching it curl and uncurl around Ruby, never touching. She looked back up, all too aware of the throbbing pain in her chest. “Me neither.”

Ruby looked up at her curiously, but Weiss found herself turning away. Her hand went to her ear, a soft sigh escaping her mouth when she realized it was still bleeding. She rose to her feet, her knees wobbling slightly as she tried to gain her balance. “I’m going to clean up now, I think.”

“Do you need help?” Ruby asked with a worried frown, getting off the bed and standing next to her.

“I—what?” Weiss asked, suddenly aware of the fact that without heels she was actually a bit shorter than Ruby. _And she’s still growing_, a sad voice in her head sighed.

“Do you need help with your ear?” Ruby clarified, reaching up and brushing the rust stained locks of hair away from Weiss’ injury. “It doesn’t look like it’s healing.”

“You... you don’t have to.” She said, pulling away from her touch. “It’s such a small injury, really.”

“I know that, silly.” Ruby rolled her eyes, removing her hand and crossing her arms. “Let me help you anyway.”

“...thank you.” Weiss murmured hesitantly.

Ruby beamed, much too bright for Weiss to handle. “Of course.”

And out of the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn she’d seen something blue flicker in and out of existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's done,,,,, this chapter is over,,,, 
> 
> anyway, do u guys like that blatantly gay tension? 
> 
> i'd like you all to know that when i was writing the whiterose scene i was lowkey cringing at everything weiss thought because damn she cannot piece together how ruby could ever actually want to spend time with her even though ruby technically doesn't have a string that's tied to weiss.... poor girl needs therapy, she can't just keep considering her relationships with people "string" and "no string" smh
> 
> (though to be fair to weiss i think that it would actually be a common problem with anyone who could actually see them.)
> 
> oh and the whole ruby being hung up on the little sister thing if it wasn't clear it's because the poor girl wants to bond with her partner and anything they had in common ruby gobbled up because she wants to be on good terms with weiss and lowkey it's actually super depressing (and ofc weiss doesn't know this because a bitch be emotionally stunted and confused)
> 
> also, since it's not super spoilery, ruby has strings connected to jaune and penny thank u
> 
> i am going to go lay face down on the floor for a little while, peace out <3


	6. the moment that you took my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss learns a few things about herself and the strings; Willow Schnee had never been a very good mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all know what it's like to be the oldest daughter in a home with an abusive mother? no? do you want to?
> 
> (winter baby i'm still so sorry)
> 
> (a song that might help with how i see willow's relationship with her children is 'she lays down' by the 1975. it fits really really well, can't help relating to it lmao)
> 
> this chapter is... kinda heavy? i mean weiss thinks a lot, and weiss never has very happy thoughts

Things were strange.

For Weiss, at least.

Showing Ruby her strings had been a shockingly intimate affair. It had been as though Weiss was... _close_ to her, like she was near her in a way that sent odd bursts of warmth through her chest and caused shivers down her spine. There was no other way to say that in showing Ruby where her threads originated the nature of their relationship and seemed to alter, if even ever so slightly. 

At least, that's what it felt like on Weiss’ end of things. 

She couldn’t be exactly positive about what Ruby was thinking or feeling, but she knew that she herself was... overwhelmed. She’d never been good with emotion or feeling things in general, so the feelings that interaction with Ruby had brought forth was new and terrifying. She was no stranger to the occasional infatuation, but this felt... different.

It was _Ruby._

That distinction itself was _important; _ this was her _team leader_, the girl who claimed to be best friends with her—the girl who seemed to be _succeeding_ in convincing Weiss of that very notion of close friendship. Any ideas other than friendship were inconceivable to her, how could she even begin to feel anything other than what she had before? Sure, Weiss had acknowledged that Ruby was relatively good looking, and that her determination was admirable—but that had been it, hadn’t it? 

Not to mention that any possible feeling of fondness other than friendship was truly a terrible, awful idea. Not that Ruby herself was terrible or awful, quite the contrary, Ruby was actually rather wonderful and nice. Not that _that_ meant anything, of course. Ruby being wonderful and nice was a fact, not an opinion, so it didn’t reflect on how Weiss felt about her at all.

...right?

Yes, of course, she was just being delusional. 

Besides, she didn’t really have the time to be thinking about these kinds of things, her strings were still a very pressing matter. Most of them had stopped with the injuries, with the exception of the ones around her ears and neck, but they still ran at uncomfortable temperatures, too hot or too cold—never quite settling into something comfortable. She'd asked Blake about it, of course, and her friend had told her that meant good things, but Weiss couldn't help but be the slightest hesitant to believe that the worst of her plight was over. Not to mention the still... actively _harmful _strings were still as painful as they had always been. Still, she considered herself lucky that she’d managed to get most of them under some semblance of control.

She didn’t quite know how she felt about all of it. The implication of what the strings had brought to her life, the idea that the pain inflicted on her was because of her less than enthusiastic response to her... bonded.

It felt terrible, sometimes. 

She knew that the reason her threads seemed so angry at her was because of the fact that she had rejected the strings themselves, not the people connected to them—but sometimes she couldn’t help but see those two distinctions as one and the same. It made it hard to think about her friends sometimes, connected to her in a way that should’ve brought happiness but only circulated pain.

Or perhaps she was thinking about it too much, like Blake had told her near the beginning. Was trying to apply deep thought to the strings truly her downfall? Was she better off just accepting them as a permanent part of her life?

All evidence seemed to point to the answer being _yes_.

But Weiss had always excelled at saying _no._

She knew eventually she’d have to become used to them, to not loathe them, but she had little else in terms of other emotion to apply to them. What could she use instead? Fear? Disgust?

_Sadness_?

She feared that she didn’t often feel anything but those, that she was destined to a life of those emotions only, so when the people around her invoked other things—(_like happiness, or fondness, or even confusion and annoyance_)—she made sure to cherish those feelings appropriately. 

It just took her a little while to understand how she was supposed to do that.

Which of course always included strenuous research in the library! 

...which of course led to little in ways of results.

Eventually she reluctantly gave up and went to do her history homework, but that didn’t stop the thoughts she had from circulating inside of her. Weiss knew that her work was probably not as coherent as it usually was, but she had the feeling that as long as she got her point across Professor Oobleck wouldn't mind much. He always seemed happy with near ranting nonsense, as long as it made sense to him, of course.

She heard footsteps begin to walk toward her, but she ignored them in hopes that it wasn't anyone she knew. Weiss didn't have the time to speak to anybody, besides, she would never finish her homework with added distraction.

“Helllooooo!” Nora greeted, shouting at the top of her lungs. She beamed at Ren when he sighed, and turned to Weiss and shot her a large grin.

Weiss blinked woozily for a moment. It probably said a lot that she had not at all been surprised by Nora’s greeting. She wondered when she had gotten used to it (or when she’d become so tired as to not respond from the loud noise) and shot them both a slightly tired (if only slightly annoyed) smile. “Ah. Ren, Nora—good afternoon.” 

It was not, in fact, a good afternoon.

It was a stormy one, actually. As in, constant rain, the occasional booming of thunder, and every so often a flash of lightning. It made sense that Nora, who absolutely _adored_ rainstorms, would be excitable. 

(Though she was often excitable.)

“Good afternoon, Weiss.” Ren greeted her, nodding a little in her direction and sending her a tiny smile. He looked about as calm and relaxed as always, allowing Nora to cling to his arm with little more than a glance.

“Ha! Good afternoon? Pfftt.” Nora waved her hand dismissively, plopping herself down on the seat across from Weiss and laughing. “_Puh-lease_.”

Weiss frowned a little, now worried. Was there something wrong? Nora _liked_ storms didn’t she? Before she could open her mouth to ask if she was alright, Ren let out an exasperated groan.

“Nora.” He sighed, moving to sit next to her, shooting his partner a look. His features were arranged in such an expression of moderate disappointment that despite the fact that it wasn’t meant for her, Weiss was appropriately cowed. She promptly shook it off, of course, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t impressed by his talent of looking _that_ disappointed in someone.

“C’mon, Ren! You said it was totally alright and fine if we talked to her about it.” Nora whined out, reaching up and booping him on the nose.

“No.” He grimaced, hand going to his face as he leaned back a bit. “No, I did not say that.”

“Whatever we’re doing it anyway.” Nora said, waving him away.

Weiss tensed, she didn’t know what was going on but she had the strangest feeling that she wasn’t going to like it. She thought back to all of the pranks and practical jokes that Nora had pulled along with a reluctant Ren and felt her spine straighten even more. “Doing _what_ exactly—”

“Ice Queen!” Nora interjected, pointing a finger at her while bracing her other hand on the table, leaning forward and watching Weiss with startlingly intense eyes. She looked ready for war, almost.

“Er... yes?” She asked, leaning back and drawing her history textbook closer to her chest, as though it might protect her from whatever Nora had planned.

“When are you going to tell Ruby about your choke-y little problem.” She asked, expression not once faltering.

Weiss gaped, just a little.

“Nora, please.” Ren interjected, rubbing at his forehead and pursing his lips. “Maybe don’t spring it on her like that?”

“Nah, Ren—the time has passed for not springing things on people!” Nora insisted, leaning back into her chair and rocking in it. She crossed her arms around her chest, her face disapproving. “She’s keeping a _really_ important secret from Ruby, and it’s only gonna get worse if she doesn’t spit it out already.”

Weiss was on the verge of seething. Deep down she knew that Nora was probably right, but the idea of sharing that part of herself with Ruby, with telling her exactly what was happening and why—well, it scared her, and sharing fear was almost more intimate than anything else. The idea that she might actually talk to her about it, the mere thought of the vulnerability she'd have to display... it was, appropriately cowing.

Terrifying, actually.

It was a deep, unsettling type of terror. It dripped from her body like slime, leaving an obvious trail behind her and slowing her movements. Desperate and unyielding, it clung tightly to her—wriggling its way inside of her and grabbing at her ribs, putting pressure on her lungs with every stuttering breath she took. It almost felt like she was drowning in it, sometimes, _drowning_ in that sticky, wet mess. It left more than a bitter taste in her mouth.

Weiss grit her teeth, doing her best to keep a handle on her temper. “Things have settled now, thank you very much.” She said, not quite able to keep the bite from her voice. “I hardly ever—”

“But it still happens.” Ren interrupted, his voice quiet.

“What?” She asked, startled. Weiss hadn’t really expected for him to be the one to interrupt her. 

“The choking, the hurting, all of the bruises and pain.” Ren continued, his face earnest. “It still _happens_.”

And the way he said it to her, as though all she had gone through (all that she was _still_ going through) shouldn’t have been happening to her, was enough to make even the hardest of hearts soften. He was far too convincing for someone she’d barely managed to have a conversation with that didn’t have to do with school or their respective teams. 

“But it’s _better _ now, I can handle a little suffering, I think.” Weiss said to him, rubbing one of the pages of her text book between her thumb and forefinger. She wasn’t even lying to him, it had gotten a _lot_ better than before—not to mention she was used to the sting of the negative swirl of emotions brought upon her by her upbringing, a little bruising would not bother her if she could survive her father.

“That’s not the _point_, Ice Queen.” Nora groaned out, flailing her arms out above her before nearly slamming her head against the table. “Gosh! You’re worse than Ren sometimes, always suffering in silence—except you’re more dramatic about it then Renny here.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Ren sighed.

“I resent you.” Weiss said at the same time.

“Pfft, acting like you’re cooler than me because you have things like _restraint._” Nora pouted, looking away from them and heaving a dramatically loud sigh. “You’re both absolutely no fun.” 

“A compliment,” Weiss started snidely, “considering your version of fun.”

Nora stuck her tongue out at her.

“Regardless, Nora does have a point she’s going with this.” Ren pointed out, shaking off his disgruntled expression and shooting Weiss a severe look.

“Other than the fact that the two of us are sanctimonious bores?” She snarked back at him, crossing her arms and raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Don’t use that type of talk with me! You know better than to use words with more than ten letters in my presence, it makes everything sound like some sort of posh academic thing.” She struck a pose, donning an accent she likely considered refined. “Oh yes, I do so believe that she has called us _sanctimonious_ probably because it’s _true_.” She stuck her tongue out at Weiss, placing a hand over her heart and another over her forehead. “_Ooh_, I’m so fancy and cool because I own a _dictionary_.”

“As funny as that was, I do think we should return to the task at hand.” Ren said, stifling an amused snort before turning to look back at Weiss. “You should tell Ruby.” He recommended softly. "You should tell Ruby, _soon._"

“She’s smart, you know that better than almost anyone.” Nora said, suddenly more serious than before. “She’ll figure it out, and the longer it takes for you to tell her, the more hurt she’s gonna be.”

“Not to mention that... well.” Ren shifted a little, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face.

“You told her I could see them and she approached me about it, she knows and she’s _gonna_ ask—I dunno when, but she will.” Nora continued after him, "_Everyone_ asks.”

There was an implication to her words that Weiss was hesitant to think on. Unfortunately for her, her brain didn’t get the memo. She wondered what it was like, being able to give the sight. It made sense that people would ask, they were naturally curious after all, but Weiss imagined it would begin to wear on you. How could you be sure if someone was only talking to you because they wanted a glimpse of what you saw on a daily basis? If you wanted to be entirely sure of their friendship you'd have to keep the secret from them for a good long while.

That... That would be enough to give Weiss worse trust issues than she already had, actually.

Pyrrha had told Weiss that Ren and Nora had explained the situation to them right away, she wondered now why they did it so early.

“And when that happens she’ll know, and Nora doesn’t have a very good excuse to tell her no.” Ren continued, oblivious to Weiss’ thoughts. 

The excuse was a flimsy one, Nora could just tell her she didn't want to, but Weiss had a feeling that even if that did occur to her (and it probably had) Nora wasn't comfortable with the situation very much at all. It wasn't as though Weiss could blame her.

“Not to mention I won’t lie for you.” Nora added.

“Yes, and that.” Ren snorted, leaning back a little into his chair.

“That’s... fair of you, I suppose.” Weiss’ voice was soft as she looked away from them. It was actually _astoundingly_ fair, she didn’t know what she’d do when put in the same situation. “I just... I just need time to figure it all out.”

“You don’t have much of that, I’m afraid.” Ren sighed sympathetically. 

“He’s right, you don’t.” Nora agreed, her expression softening into something slightly less excitable. “But you do have friends to talk it out with, you know, if not us then definitely Blake—or even Pyrrha!”

“I’d recommend Sun, but I don’t believe he knows about your strings, and Yang would normally be a good idea—but this _is_ somewhat about her sister.” Ren said, placing a hand on his chin as he thought for a moment.

Nora snickered, grinning wickedly. “Ooh, yeah, she’d probably let you talk it out with her and then challenge you to a spar when you were done so she could beat the ever loving crap out of you.”

“Nothing so drastic.” Ren said, despite the fact that he was quite obviously lying.

“Thank you.” Weiss snorted a little, but managed to sound sincere.

“And one last thing.” Nora began, smile dimming a little. “Your strings are beautiful and wonderful, they can lead to places you never knew existed, but they aren’t _everything._ ”

“Sometimes bonds don’t take, sometimes they go wrong, sometimes you get along better with someone who doesn’t have your string.” Ren continued after her.

Nora smiled at her, a little sympathetic and a lot wild. It was a pointed grin, sharp and cruel but not quite wicked—as though she knew what she was about to say would change something inside of Weiss greatly, but understood that it was a necessity... no matter how badly she may feel after it. And it’s with that look that Weiss gained an understanding of Nora, of how far she might be willing to go for the people that she cared about. In comparison with what she was prepared to do, this conversation was _nothing._ Hardly a drop in her mental fortitude for those that she considered her friend.

And Weiss understood, a little, the desire to cross the lines that prevented you from someone you loved.

How many lines had she crossed for her siblings? How many lines had they crossed for her? It was nothing like at Beacon with her team, nothing like their gentle understanding and devotion, no—what she had with them had been (probably still was) something different. Something far more dangerous.

It looked like Nora might have that type of love too.

“It’s all about _impact_, baby.” She said, and the sharp lines of her smile didn’t seem so pointed anymore. “If the potential isn’t huge enough it won’t show up—but it’s always there, waiting to develop as you do.”

“What?” Weiss asked, her voice nary a whisper. Something inside of her snapped, the sound of shattering glass pervading her senses. This was similar enough to what she had learned for her to wrap her mind around, but it was still so _different_ then what she had believed before. Could she even believe where Nora was going with this? 

_Yes_, she thought, _I can._

“Strings aren’t _everything_, Weiss.” Nora said to her, still smiling, still driving the conversation forward—in control in such a way that left Weiss almost paralyzed. “So it doesn’t matter if they develop or not in the long run. In the end, whatever happens, Ruby’s still gonna be your friend.” She paused. "Well, she might be a little bit of an angry friend, but still technically a friend."

And she was right, wasn’t she? Ruby may be angered, may be hurt, but at the end of the day they were partners, weren’t they? That meant something to Ruby, was supposed to mean something to Weiss.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to think about, wasn’t hard to stomach.

“Don’t get caught up in it, unrequited strings are uncommon, but not as uncommon as you think.” Ren added after a moment, seeing her paling expression and reaching out, his palm extended upward so that if she wanted she could grab it.

Nora did the same, her arm resting against Ren’s but extended to her, giving Weiss a choice whether or not to accept the comfort that they offered her. Their hands were gestured to her, all she had to do was take them.

So she did.

“I’ll try.” Weiss said to them quietly, gripping their palms in hers, resting on them daintily. She couldn’t squeeze them hard, couldn’t hold them like she wanted to in fear that they would reciprocate, and her fingers would shatter with the weight of their acceptance. But she took them in hers, softly and skin barely brushing, and it was enough. “I’ll try, it’ll be hard for me, but I’ll try.”

“That’s really all I can ask.” Nora smiled, a real one this time, bright and energetic and _buzzing._ “Now! You and I are going on an adventure, Ice Queen!” Her eyes sparkled in her excitement, cheeks creased and red with what looked to be happiness.

Weiss blinked for a moment, how had she never noticed them outside of school before? The idea seemed laughable now. “But I have—”

“_Shush_! We are going to go _relax_, and watch a movie, and eat ice cream—you don’t get a say!” Nora shouted, drawing the attention of the other students. Used to her antics, they turned away and went right back to work.

Ren smiled down at his partner, before turning to face Weiss and shrugging. “She’s right, you don’t get a say.”

“Thank you, Ren.” Nora beamed, elbowing him in his ribs.

Ren barely flinched.

And through all of it they still held her hands.

Weiss wanted to stay with them, she was surprised to find. She wanted to learn about them and befriend them and care for them. They were not the first people without strings attached to her that tried to become friends with her, but they were certainly the first that she took any real notice of. It was almost a shame that she genuinely had something to do today. “I'm sorry, truly, but my sister is supposed to call today.”

“Aw.” Nora said, caving. It was a surprise, sure, but... now that she thought about it whenever family came up in her conversations with the others she always tended to do something surprising. 

“I too am disappointed.” Ren said, and almost seemed to pout a little.

Thoroughly shaken by both of their displays, an impulse to make them feel better surged through her, and she found herself blurting out, “I’ll go by your dorm when it’s over.”

“_Yes_! Closer friendship acquired!” Nora pumped her fists in the air, cheering so loud that nearly everyone in the library looked over. Once again, they went back to work, though not before rolling their eyes. "You won't regret it!" Nora cheered, before pausing. "Well, you might regret it... just a little."

“I’m looking forward to it, Weiss.” Ren said, a tiny little smile on his face while he ignored his partner's antics. “If you fail to come I am not liable to what Nora decides to do to you.”

“He’s right, I’d totally pummel you if you ditched us.” Nora agreed, leaning back and shooting Weiss a cocky smile.

Weiss snorted, pulling away from them. The contact with them had been nice, but now her palms were itchy. “Good to know, I’ll see you in...” She paused, considering for a moment. “Maybe an hour or so?”

Nora grinned. “Sounds good!” 

“Have a nice time with your sister.” Ren stood from the table, grabbing Nora’s hand and leading her to follow.

Something inside of her softened at the casual display of affection. “Thank you.”

They all ignored the fact that she was talking about much more than what he had said in parting.

* * *

She’d had one too many heavy conversations that day, but there was no denying what had to be said to her sister. Weiss didn’t know whether or not it would end well, for either of them, especially considering the sorry state of their strings. She knew that Whitley was the sibling that she had wronged most, but that didn’t mean she should be okay with the way things were between her and Winter. She still looked up to her big sister, after all.

There was no hiding her hesitance to tell her, however, and she could feel the strain around her ears. It was funny, almost, how they hadn’t hurt her much before she began to attend Beacon. She couldn’t help but wonder _why_ exactly, could it be that perhaps in an area further away from interactions with them their (admittedly already shakily formed connections) had been reduced to such a state of pain?

_Did they feel the same strain?_

If they did, they certainly did not tell her about it, whether it be because of their mistrust in her or their own pride.

She really couldn’t blame them for either.

Weiss’ knee bounced, a nervous tick she’d picked up from someone on her team (only God knows who) and ran her tongue harshly over the points of her teeth. She knew that Winter was busy, that she couldn’t always muster the time to answer a call from her little sister in another country, but Winter had _promised._

(Of all the family Schnee, Winter always seemed the best at keeping promises. All except one.)

The screen made a beeping noise, blinking to life as the sight of her sister was revealed. It was nearly time for bed in Atlas, and Weiss really was lucky to catch her before she went to sleep. Winter always grew disgruntled at the calls just before bed, when she was looking her least severe and professional, hair down and face cleared of makeup. 

Which was the precise reason Weiss always called at that time, it was funny watching her indignant expression, and it reminded Weiss that even her sister had to be human sometimes. 

A reminder that she’d needed more and more as time wore on.

“Winter.” Weiss greeted softly, smiling.

“Weiss.” Winter barely kept from snapping, her expression annoyed.

Weiss’ smile only grew at that. She sighed, as much as she took pleasure in causing her sister brief annoyances, there had been a point to calling her. “I’m... I just wanted to tell you, I...”

Winter smirked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She had her own long distance caller in her apartment, which always made Weiss slightly jealous. “Clear words, Sister, stuttering is unbecoming.”

“Of course.” Weiss said immediately, snapping to attention and ignoring the blush rising to her cheeks. She cleared her throat, pressing her hands into her lap and making sure that her voice came out clear and concise. “I wanted to say that I found a way.”

“A way?” Winter asked, eyes narrowed.

“To fix things.” Weiss explained, hand going to her neck. “For my... strings.” 

Winter stared for a moment, speechless. There was something in her expression that put Weiss on edge, an emotion or feeling painted on her face for half a second before it was gone, wiped away as easily as a tear. 

Weiss felt something in her stomach swoop, nervousness making her hands begin to shake. “And I wanted to apologize for putting you in a position where you... where I wanted you to cut them, it was... desperate of me, and wrong.”

It had been, had been so very _wrong_ of her. 

She could scarcely imagine what her sister may have felt in that moment, asked to do something that must have been almost blasphemous. Their mother had rid herself of her own, cutting ties to every single person she’d been connected to, her children included. There would be no salvaging the strings, not after the master thread was gone. 

It was kind of horrible, actually. She’d known it was, of course, but now that the idea had settled in her mind she couldn’t help but think that what she had been prepared to do was... not thought through much. She’d not realized that she wouldn’t just be getting rid of her team, but her siblings as well, and even before she realized that she’d lose them the decision had been a daunting one.

“Oh.” Winter said quietly, her face smooth and unwrinkled. The blankness was not new, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t unsettling to see. “I see.”

Weiss swallowed, barely suppressing the urge to curl in on herself. She had known that this was not something a simple apology would fix, but the conclusion was crushing to draw anyway. “You don’t look as pleased as I thought you would.” She admitted through a weak smile.

Winter’s expression softened so slightly that almost nobody else would have been able to see it. “I am happy for you, and I do appreciate your apology.” There was something awkward hanging at the end of her admission, like there was a thought or feeling that she didn’t know or didn’t want to express.

“But?” Weiss sucked on her cheek a bit, a bad habit to do in front of company from Atlas, but she’d long since disregarded the subtleties of Atlesian pleasantries. Besides, this was her sister, surely she could be relaxed with her, however slightly?

“No buts.” Winter said quietly, looking away.

“Winter, I know it’s not my place—” One of her ears began to burn, cutting Weiss off abruptly. She froze and shifted uncomfortably. On things like pictures or video it was impossible to see the strings connected to another person, so she had no way of knowing whether or not her sister was feeling the same burning that she was.

Winter glared, her brows furrowing and lips puckering. It certainly did not appear as though she was in any pain. “No, it certainly _isn’t_ your place.” The grip on her expression was quite obviously slipping.

Though there was always a shine of something else in her face when near Weiss, it was never anything like this. Usually, it was barely restrained fondness or minor disappointment, this was... anger. More than what she’d seen before, more than the annoyance when she was fighting Ruby’s uncle, more than anything she’d ever seen in the presence of her father—this was something _different._

It had been a long time since she’d seen something of her sister that was new, and even though it must’ve been a terrible feeling, Weiss couldn’t help but relish it.

“Something is wrong.” Weiss said quietly, her eyes not once leaving Winter’s.

She visibly hesitated, and Weiss felt her breath catch at the unfiltered expression of discomfort on her face. “I... yes.”

“Something has been wrong for a long time.” She concluded.

“Yes.” Winter admitted, gritting her teeth.

And goodness, Weiss wanted to _press._ She wanted to push and push and push and _push_ until she knew, until there was nothing that Winter could keep from her. The desire to unravel her, to pull the shroud from her sister until her feelings were stripped bare was overwhelming and overpowering. Weiss wanted to _know,_ a deep and aching desire that encompassed her all over, primal and true.

But even though it pulsed in her chest like a heartbeat, even as it constricted around her throat and choked her on her tongue, she couldn’t bear to put Winter through something she knew would be a grueling affair. 

“I must admit to being curious, but I’m not going to press you.” Weiss admitted quietly, looking down and forcing her feelings away. She loved her sister, and even though Winter might not have been the best one in the world, she was _hers_ and that meant something to Weiss.

Even if it didn’t mean anything to Winter. 

“You... will not?” The naked surprise on her face stung, just a little bit.

“No.” Weiss sighed, reaching up and tugging on the ends of her ponytail. She felt antsy, her skin prickling with something akin to anxiety. Weiss shot Winter a weak grin. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“It’s just, this is not something you would have done, before.” Winter explained, her eyes still a little wide, making her expression look more open, younger than before. “Normally I would have to _tell_ you not to press.”

“What do you mean by that?” Weiss asked, disgruntled.

Winter smirked, an almost wicked thing. “You were very entitled, lovely little sister.”

_Lovely little sister._

Winter did not say things like that. She stuck to her name, or a simple ‘Sister.’ The ‘darlings’ and the ‘lovelys’ hadn’t been in her vocabulary since they were children, when she was much more playful. She had eventually stopped of course, but by then Weiss had picked it up, and so had Whitley. Even though the two were on bad terms the staple in each other’s vocabulary hadn’t changed, but she never thought she’d hear it again from Winter.

How unexpectedly sentimental of her.

(She didn't know if she meant herself or her sister.)

Winter’s string cooled, still running hot but not enough to burn.

“Well, that hasn’t exactly changed.” Weiss said through her surprise.

“No,” A wry smile, “I see now that it hasn’t.”

Weiss sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart and leaning back in her chair. “Oh Winter, how you _wound_ me.” 

“As is my gift.” Winter nodded seriously, a flicker of amusement shining in her gaze.

“Very funny.” She snorted, lips curving upward.

They smiled at each other, and for a moment it was like everything was okay again. It was almost as though they were talking about nothing and everything, the only heaviness in the conversation the unsaid about what happened at the Schnee Manor. It was like before the strings, before Weiss had failed to convince her to take them from her, to end the suffering that she had foreseen, that she had experienced. 

Or maybe it had never been okay. Maybe the relationship she’d had with her sister had always been strained with something, their shared name, their choices in schooling, how they had decided to go about their lives—the differences in each other had always been a stresser between them.

But they had at least been happy in each other’s company, had at least not minded the words that frequently went unsaid, had not minded the subtle and not so subtle maneuvering of conversation when one was uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d destroyed that, their easy comradery in each other despite the differing aspects of themselves. 

And maybe she had, Weiss thought, maybe it was all her fault—but she couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve been if Winter had... not been _there_ for her exactly, she knew that she needed to get away and never blamed her for it, but if she had never broken that promise. The one that had been whispered late in the night, Winter sneaking into Weiss’ room with injured hands as she swore to her that their parents would never hurt her again. That she would protect her.

Weiss’ scar was only a reminder that she had failed, the first and only broken promise Winter had made her. The one that meant the most.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she was being unfair.

(That did nothing to stop the surge of exhaustion and bitterness inside of her. Coursing through her veins like her blood, boiling and warm and uncomfortable—thick in her body and weighing down her bones like lead.)

Winter eyed her for a moment, her smile dimming. “Weiss, what do you know of our mother?”

She blinked, twitching. “Very little other than the obvious.”

“The obvious being?” Winter pressed further, looking at her with a startlingly intense gaze.

Weiss thought for a moment, wondering if her sister was being serious. When Winter’s expression didn’t change, she pursed her lips. “She’s a depressed alcoholic with no strings to speak of, because she cut them...” Weiss frowned. “How did she cut them?”

It would have been impossible, right? Weiss had tried it out on her own, and not only had she catastrophically failed, but the pain had been immense. She doubted that her mother could have hid it if she somehow managed to do it herself. Unless Weiss was the outlier, of course, but that didn’t make any sense either because her mother had the same problems that Weiss did when she had possessed the strings.

So how did she do it?

“I—what?” Winter blinked, looking taken aback. The expression on her face was almost one of panic, but that could’ve just been because talking of Mother always made Winter squirrely. 

Not that Weiss could blame her for that, Willow Schnee was like a ghost, haunting Schnee Manor with a wine bottle in hand, wailing in the gardens and spooking the staff.

Wait that was actually kind of funny.

She’d dwell on that later.

“You can’t cut the strings yourself.” Weiss pointed out, avoiding Winter’s gaze. “I... I tried that, I failed. So _how_ did Mother—”

“Are you asking me?” Winter interrupted, gripping at her desk, knuckles white and jaw clenched. 

“I—no?” Weiss blinked, confused. “Of course not, you couldn’t possibly know—”

Winter winced.

It was a subtle thing, barely a shift in her expression and posture, but Weiss had spent a lifetime watching for them—in her sister and brother, in her mother. There would be no playing it off in front of her, no hope in brushing it off. Weiss knew her sister, and she knew that there was something painful she was hiding. 

Weiss had been talking about Mother, had told Winter that she couldn’t cut her strings on her own and when she’d said that Winter couldn’t have _known_—

Oh.

“Winter?” She asked her older sister, feeling her face pale. “I think I’ve come to a particularly nasty conclusion.” Weiss couldn’t even think about it, the idea making her feel as though something was slowly pushing down on her and into her chest, reaching into her ribcage and grasping at her heart.

Every beat of it was in the hands of something else, a rapid pulsing pain.

Horror didn’t even begin to cover how she felt.

“Have you?” Winter asked, and there was something more obviously exhausted in her face than before.

Weiss stared at her, and hoped for a moment with all her heart that she was wrong. She didn’t even want to say it outloud, didn’t want to explain if Winter didn’t want her to. “May I share it with you?” Weiss asked, her voice a whisper so quiet she wondered if her sister would even be able to hear her.

“I will not stop you from speaking your mind.” Winter stated firmly, her shoulders tensing. She was as stiff as a board despite her obvious exhaustion, her discomfort obvious.

“Of course you won’t, you’re my sister.” Weiss snorted, and even though she knew that the reaction was inappropriate given the circumstances, waved her words away. When her sister’s jaw clenched, she softened considerably. “Winter, I’ll not speak of it if you bid me not to.”

“There’s no point.” Winter said almost morosely.

“There’s _always_ a point.” Weiss said back, putting in effort not to make her voice sound so sharp. Whether or not she succeeded didn’t matter at the withering glare on the face of her sister.

“And how do _you_ know that?” Winter scoffed, running a hand through her hair and out of her face, bitter laughter dripping from her lips. The sound was so reminiscent of someone else that Weiss almost flinched. “_You_, in your infinite wisdom at _eighteen_?”

“There’s no need for cruelty, Winter.” Weiss replied, folding her hands across her lap and trying to ignore the burning of her ear. “And, for your information, my team leader excels in inspirational speeches, I may have picked up a few things.”

Well, maybe she hadn’t really picked up a few things, but Ruby had made an impression on her—hesitant as she was to admit that.

“You are taking advice.” Winter said slowly, pausing. “From _Miss Rose?_”

“Of course.” Weiss retorted hotly, bristling at the disdain on her sister’s face. “She’s my team leader!”

“I was not questioning your loyalty, only your sense.” Winter stated coolly, crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes. 

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?” Weiss sputtered out, cheeks going red. Was this because of the unrequited string? Or perhaps Winter simply didn’t _like_ Ruby? The very notion was absurd, sure, Weiss liked to pretend that the fondness she felt for her partner was fairly new, but anyone who’d been paying attention had found that she was lying through her teeth.

Weiss really _had_ cared for Ruby, her kindness and her purity, her bravery and drive. She may not have felt very comfortable around her, but she had liked what she saw. _Well_, she considered, _mostly liked what she saw_.

“Just because I have decided for myself to trust someone I have thrown away my intelligence?” Weiss asked her sister then, voice shaking with barely restrained anger. “_Please_, if anything I know more _now_ than I ever had before—but I suppose you wouldn’t know, considering who _you_ follow.”

“You are out of line.” Winter said, her expression hardening.

“No, _you’re_ out of line!” Weiss snapped, pushing away her guilt and her horror and her sadness. She wouldn’t let Winter talk about her partner like that, not when she didn’t know her, not when she fell in line with the military. “Ruby is brilliant and kind, she makes a fine leader—a _good_ one—and if you don’t like _me_ questioning _your_ decisions, then you shan’t question any of mine!”

Winter stared at her for a long moment, silent. 

Weiss’ chest heaved, the passionate defense of Ruby taking her by surprise for a moment. She blinked for a moment, realizing something. She’d blown Winter’s snide comment out of proportion, she likely didn’t mean anything bad about Ruby, only noting her apparent naivety when it came to certain matters. 

But Weiss had taken it like a personal attack.

Winter sighed, a shaky, breathless thing. “I cut them.” She said, voice quiet.

“What?” Weiss recoiled.

“Mother’s strings,” Winter clarified through grit teeth, “I cut them.”

“Ah.” Weiss let out, blinking rapidly. So she had been right.

Oh, _joy_.

“Did you not already piece it together?” Winter asked, furrowing her brows.

Weiss almost laughed. “Thinking it might be true and getting confirmation that it happened are two very _different_ things, Winter.”

Before it had been a fear, a horrible what if, but now it was an absolute certainty. She could scarcely imagine what had been like for her sister, and the realization that she had asked Winter to do the same to her sunk in once again. She could only ever be thankful that Winter had had the strength to refuse her. 

“I suppose.” Her sister rubbed at her cheeks, averting her gaze and turning away. 

Weiss swallowed the lump in her throat, closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to gather herself. How could she even begin to understand what her sister had gone through? How could she even begin to make things better?

She couldn’t. 

But she could try, she could at least do that.

“I’m sorry, Winter, I am so so sorry.” Weiss managed to let out, her voice shaky despite her attempt to remain calm. Something stung at her eyes, and her throat felt hoarse. “I can’t even imagine it, I can’t even...” She trailed off, looking her sister in the eye when her ear began to burn again.

“Your pity is not appreciated.” Winter almost snarled.

Is that what she really thought this was? _Pity?_

“It’s not _pity_, Winter. I asked you to cut mine, I asked you to do that and—” She grit her teeth, trying not to sound too emotionally affected, knowing that she’d fail. “—you had already done it to Mother... she made you, didn’t she? She asked and you couldn’t refuse because—”

“They were killing her.” Winter said.

Weiss was struck silent. “What?” She asked, the question leaving her lips in a startled croak.

“The strings, they were killing her.” Winter said again, voice firm. She leaned forward, clenching her fists and averting her gaze. “They would grip her, choke and choke and choke—burrowing themselves into her skin, the strings would _sear_ themselves into her, and I sometimes feared that they would take parts of her clean off with how tightly they grasped her.”

_And wasn’t that familiar?_

Weiss had known that pain, had _felt_ it happening to her, but it wasn’t as bad as Winter was making it seem for her. So did that mean that Mother had it much worse, or that Weiss had been downplaying her own experiences with how nasty the strings got? She got the feeling that it was a bit of both.

Not for the first time, she felt a burst of sudden sympathy. She couldn't imagine what it was like, watching someone you loved suffer for the people they were bonded with. It made her nauseous, the idea of watching what she went through happen to someone she was close to.

Her sister really was very strong, wasn’t she?

Weiss looked at Winter, taking in her pained expression and the resolved clench of her jaw. To watch what happened to mother, to be forced to cut the strings she knew were connected to her, to her siblings...

It was horrific.

“That...” Weiss trailed off and gripped at her chest, pressing her hand into the comforting warmth of Sun’s string. “That happened to me.”

Winter watched her, her shoulders deflating. “Yes.”

“But I found a way to make it better.” Weiss continued.

“Yes.” Winter shut her eyes.

Weiss swallowed and wished she could reach out and do something. If only she could reach into the monitor, to place a hand on her sister’s shoulder or draw her into a hug or do _something._ But she couldn’t do anything like that, the best she could was try and reassure her with her words, and she’d never been very good at things like that.. “Winter—”

“I do not need your pity, Weiss.” Her sister interjected, and the longer Weiss looked at her the more heart wrenching this all became. “All I did, all she made me do, for _nothing._”

Weiss winced. “Win—”

“It _hurt_ so badly, like my fingers were melting, like my hands might fall off and then the feel of my string to her eroding was just—” She ran a hand over her face, shoulders shaking. “And to think, if she had just... I can not say what you had to do to fix things, as I do not know, but if you could figure it out then could Mother not have?”

She wouldn’t have, Weiss realized, Mother wouldn’t have been able to do this—wouldn’t have been able to even comprehend what she had done to make things better for herself. She thought back to the night that Winter had made that promise to her, the one that protected her from her parents, thought back to the sight of her bandaged hands.

Had she cut Mother’s strings just minutes before she snuck into Weiss’ room?

Her stomach churned.

“Winter.” Weiss said softly, rubbing at her chest and looking away. She didn’t know how to say it, to tell Winter that there was nothing that their mother could have done. Not with her circumstances, not with who she was tied to. She closed her eyes, swallowing her nerves and opening her mouth to speak. “Mother had an unrequited string to Father around her neck, even if she had known what to do... I doubt she would have been able to do it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Winter asked, recoiling a bit.

“The only reason my condition isn’t like hers right now is because I have learned that accepting the strings is always going to be better than fighting them.” Weiss explained. “It feels like... It feels like they don’t care if I want to follow them or not, as long as I accept that they are there, that they are a genuine possibility.”

Her ear stopped throbbing, and Weiss had to fight the urge to slump backward into the chair in relief. She looked around, and noticed that she was the only one in the call room. A little suspicious, but something that she was very thankful for. She didn’t know what she’d do if the contents of her conversation with Winter had been all over the school the next morning.

She turned back to Winter, who was frowning and staring at her hands. It was quiet again, the lull in conversation used as a moment to process the words that Weiss had said. Weiss’ left eye twitched a bit, and she took the moment to examine the room that her sister was in.

She was in her apartment, obviously, but Weiss had seldom been there—the only reason she knew that Winter had one was because she’d mentioned it once in a conversation. There were shelves behind her shoulders, pictures of her time at Atlas academy with various teachers or other students. She was surprised to see the corner of a bed, the sheets made and smoothed out. Next to it was a nightstand, a picture of Winter, Weiss, and Whitley when they were young sitting there, plain to see. 

Weiss felt herself smile, just a little bit, it appeared as though the monitor was in Winter’s bedroom. Her sister would never answer a call in her own space that was for business, which meant that Winter gave Weiss her private call number.

It meant more than it should have.

“After...” Winter began, shocking Weiss from her thoughts. “After that _birthday_ Mother never would have—”

“Exactly.” Weiss said quietly, a soft pang of old hurt making her chest throb uncomfortably. It may have been pain she was used to, but it was pain nonetheless. “Are you going to tell her?”

“Why would I do that?” She asked, sounding surprised. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re closest to her, Winter.” Weiss said, and hated how true it was. Their mother exchanged words with Weiss and Whitley, but seemed to enjoy conversation with Winter the most. Not that Winter actually liked being a part of them, of course. She sighed again, leaning her palm into her hand and shooting Winter a sympathetic smile. “Goodness knows that Whitley hasn’t told her, he may relish in throwing the situation in my face, but he doesn’t like being in the same room as her for long.”

“Do you... _want_ me to tell her?” Winter asked her slowly, watching Weiss with a careful expression on her face.

“I...” In all honesty, Weiss didn’t care either way. She loved her mother, nothing would change that, but she knew that nothing would change even if she learned of what was happening to her daughter. Perhaps what happened to Weiss would only add more reasons for her to stay in the garden and drink. “It’s up to you.” She said finally, voice firm.

“That is not an answer.” Winter said testily, a frown on her face.

“I’m sorry that it’s not.” Weiss' words were genuine and she found herself shooting her sister an apologetic glance. “I think... I think you should talk to someone about what happened with Mother.”

Her sister paused, and if not for the subtle movements of her breathing Weiss would have assumed that the screen had frozen. “Excuse me?”

“For all his faults General Ironwood does insist on providing mental health services for his soldiers, he knows it’s important.”

Her brow furrowed. “I do not—”

“Winter, please.” Weiss said, and was ashamed to realize just how strained her voice came out. She almost couldn’t stand it. “I love you, don’t you know? I can’t bear to see you in pain, but it hurts more when I realize that you’ve been suffering all this time with no one to talk to about it... with no one to understand.” Her voice cracked.

Winter’s face softened. “Why do you think I haven’t talked to anyone about it?”

“You’re my sister.” Weiss said through a weak smile. “I _know_ you.”

Winter laughed. “You are my sister as well, and I can not find it in myself to think I know you any better than I know anyone else... you have changed.”

“I don’t think I have.” Weiss said, looking down at her hands. “I think that coming here has only given me a chance to add to what was already inside of me... like logs to a fire, I suppose.”

“Burning bright.” Winter sighed. “Take care not to burn yourself out, please.”

“Only if you do.” Weiss replied, pausing. “I really do love you.”

Winter smiled, but it was a sad, rueful thing. “And I you.”

At the end of the day, at least Weiss had friends to comfort her. 

She didn’t quite know if the same could be said for Winter.

* * *

Weiss was exhausted. It had been... a very difficult day. First the talk with Ren and Nora and then the admission from her sister, it was almost a surprise someone hadn’t walked up to her and punched her in the face just to make things come full circle. Though, Ren and Nora did do a good job cheering her up. She may not have spent much time with them before, but that certainly didn’t keep Nora (and to an extent, even Ren) from pulling out all the stops to make her feel better.

This consisted of an overabundance of pancake consumption, action movies, and random zaps of electricity from Nora to make sure that Weiss and Ren didn’t fall asleep. Either way, she was thankful to them, even if her hair was now a bit messy and her clothes rumpled. 

Now she just wanted to go back to her dorm and sleep for a decade or two, she felt that she deserved it.

It had been a harrowing day.

She yawned into the palm of her hand, rubbing at her eyes and opening the door to her room. She hoped that perhaps her team members would see how tired she was and allow her a brief moment of reprieve. 

Weiss should’ve known better than to hope for anything at this point in her life.

“Weiss!” Ruby shouted, already in her pajamas, a flurry of rose petals and suddenly she was right in front of her, dragging her into a hug. “I missed you! You were gone _all day_.” 

Weiss stiffened in surprise, her arms flailing a bit before settling stiffly at her sides. She slumped into the embrace, just a little, unable to pull away. “Hello.” She murmured, voice subdued. “It’s only been a couple of hours, you know.”

“But I haven’t seen you since breakfast!” Ruby objected, taking a step back and putting her hands on her hips, turning up her nose and looking utterly ridiculous. “That’s _way_ too long to see my most bestest friend.”

Weiss smiled, a little crooked. “Bestest isn’t a word.”

“Vocabulary is a social construct.” Ruby said, waving her away. 

“It’s such a nice one though.” Weiss quipped quietly, side stepping her and moving deeper into the dorm. 

“Where have you been?” Ruby asked, speeding up to her bunk and kicking out her legs, nodding her head side to side, humming a little. All of her was so energetic, different from anyone else. It was... an almost quiet sort of constant buzz, comforting.

Strange.

“Over in team JNPR’s dorm.” Weiss answered her, voice soft. She slipped out of the blazer of her school uniform, folding it and putting on the end of her bed while grabbing her nightgown, moving toward the bathroom door. 

“Oh, hanging out with Pyrrha again?” Ruby asked.

Weiss paused just before entering. “Er... actually, Ren and Nora invited me to spend some time with them.” She smiled, just a little, turning to face Ruby and tilting her head. “They’re good company.”

“Oohhh, what’d you guys do?” She grinned back at Weiss, excitement shining her eyes.

“We watched a movie.” Weiss said, twitching and fiddling with her nightgown, the way Ruby asked her made her feel as though the question was significant somehow.

The smile on her partner’s face only grew in size, “You’re getting along better with them.” She hopped down from her bunk, walking towards her. 

“...Yes.” Weiss said, leaning back a little. Ruby wasn’t super close to her but her rapid approach had still set her hair on end. Her partner’s expression seemed to go impish, her eyebrows wiggling. “Why are you doing that with your face?”

“I’m just...” Ruby paused, her face shifting to pensive. “Proud of you, I guess.”

Weiss blinked. “What?” She croaked out.

“I’m proud of you.” Ruby repeated, as though it was a simple fact. 

Weiss feared that she would hear nothing over the rapid beating of her heart, the blood plumping to her head and rushing through her ears. She was dying, she must be, she must have died and gone to heaven to have heard something like that leave Ruby’s mouth. 

She was _proud_.

How could she be?

Weiss was... arrogant, and spiteful, and could be possessive and narcissistic and notoriously difficult. Saying that, Ruby couldn’t possibly know it, couldn’t possibly understand the significance it had over her. To Weiss it was practically a declaration of love, Ruby had given her words that she had spent her entire childhood searching for. 

What was Ruby even proud _of_? 

Weiss’ face contorted into a grimace, almost as though she was in pain. 

And she may as well have been, with the feeling of something settling just underneath her skin and flaring, making everything feel artificial and _wrong_—an itchy discomfort all over her body. This had nothing to do with the strings. Nothing to do with the visible bonds that wrapped themselves around her, nothing to do with the proof of impact, or potential, or love, or whatever they were meant to represent.

This was just _Weiss_, Weiss with a throbbing pain in her chest and a feeling like fire encompassing her entirely.

All of it had originated inside of her, had started with her.

(And the words that had just left Ruby’s mouth.)

It seemed as though her inner turmoil had not gone unnoticed. Ruby blinked, coming closer with a concerned look on her face. “Wait what’s wrong, why is your face doing that?!” Panic laced her expression, hurrying over a little more quickly.

She was heart stoppingly close now, and there was no more room to move away, her back against the door of the bathroom. Weiss turned her face away, trying to ignore the sting at the corners of her eyes. “Shut up, my face isn’t doing anything.” But that was a lie, because she was on the verge of something. A desperate burning inside of her like hot molten tears.

It was like sadness, but not quite.

Strange.

(She hated how strange things seemed to be getting for her.)

“Weiss, are you... crying?” Ruby recoiled from her.

“No.” She shook her head stubbornly. “No, I am most certainly _not_!”

But that was a lie too, because despite herself she felt tears slip from her eyes. This had just been the icing on the cake, hadn’t it? She’d had such a wretched day, a wretched, _emotional_ day. It was like she was imploding on herself, that she was succumbing to something that had been building up and up and up.

All of Ren and Nora's hard work spent cheering her up, _wasted_. She'd need to apologize for that the next time she saw them.

Ruby took notice, and her expression smoothed out into something more soothing. “Hey, hey—”

Weiss swallowed, trying not to choke on her words, scrambling to get away. “I just, I just need a moment—”

“Weiss, wait.” And Ruby wasn’t quite pinning her to the bathroom door but she was certainly close enough to make it impossible to move anywhere else. When Weiss paused, dazedly blinking back at her, Ruby nodded, taking a step back and opening her arms. “Come here, I’ll give you a hug or something.”

Weiss grimaced, and the change in her expression caused more tears to stream down her face. “Ruby, I don’t think—”

“_C’mon_, Weiss! I’m offering you an _exclusive_ Ruby Rose hug!” Ruby said, shooting her a grin that did nothing to hide the worry on her face. Nevertheless, she tried to appear cocky and self-assured, which was a lot more funny than Weiss thought she had meant it to be. “You know, I heard they were banned in three countries because of how much everyone wanted one—”

“If you make me laugh right now I will stab you.” Weiss sniffed, giving into the temptation to reach up and wipe her tears away.

“Nah, you like me too much for that.” Ruby said, expression soft despite the joking words.

Weiss, almost smiled at her. _How charming,_ she thought, averting her gaze and sighing. “...Unfortunately.”

“Oh my gosh you didn’t even try and _deny_ it—does this mean that you love me now?” Ruby pretended to swoon, leaning backward and almost falling over before regaining her balance and doing it all over again.

“Honestly.” Weiss sighed, crossing her arms and trying not to roll her eyes. Give Ruby an inch and she’d take a mile. A reluctant smile threatened to make her lips turn upward. A stream of tears made her eyes burn like hot magma, fire licking at her cheeks and nose.

Ruby grinned sheepishly.

She leaned against the bathroom door, letting her head fall back on it with a muffled _thump_. “_Honestly_.” She repeated through a huffing laugh with a fond sigh.

“So you _do_ love me!” Ruby grinned, pumping her fist victoriously in the air. “_Yes_! I knew it, I’m just way too lovable—”

“As endearing as this is—which it’s most certainly _not_—I think that’s enough for today.” Weiss said, smiling, and for a moment it was easy to forget that there were still tears in her eyes.

“Weiss...” Ruby started seriously, reaching up and holding her face in her palms, wiping stray tears away with her thumbs. A silent moment passed, Ruby’s eyes startling and intense, before she shot Weiss a silly grin. “Can I start planning the wedding now, then?”

“_Shut up_.” Weiss groaned, pushing back Ruby’s forehead and shoving her away, trying to ignore the sudden burning in her cheeks..

Ruby scrambled backward, laughing. “I’m not hearing a _no_—”

And Weiss couldn’t take it anymore. 

The day had been a tiring one, and Ruby was only making it harder on her by making her _feel_ like—

She _felt_ like—

Goodness, Ruby made it so _hard_ sometimes, how could she not be expected to do something _stupid_—

The nightgown slipped from her hands, and unbidden she surged forward, reaching out and placing her hands on Ruby’s cheeks. They both froze in place, the warm blush in Ruby’s face warming her cold fingers. 

“Weiss?” Ruby breathed, eyes wide.

“Ruby.” Weiss squeaked back in surprise, shoulders trembling and mouth agape. 

She hadn’t _meant_ to—

She wasn’t _supposed_ to—

_Why_ had she— 

“Why did you say that you were proud of me?” She asked, voice soft.

Ruby blinked. “Because I am.” She said, like it was simple, like it was _true._

“But... _why_?” Weiss’ hands slipped from her face, but Ruby didn’t move backward. “How in the world are you possibly _proud?_” 

“Uh, maybe because you’re talking to a lot of people now? I mean, it’s like when you first got here you were afraid to talk to anyone that wasn’t Blake—because of those strings I’m guessing—but now you’re just...” Ruby smiled, looking away. “You’re doing good, and I’m proud of you.”

“I...” Weiss closed her eyes tightly. “It’s been a while since... since I’ve been told something like that, so I needed a moment.”

“What?”

She grimaced, “A moment, a second, a minute—”

“No it’s just, uh.” Ruby looked utterly perplexed. “But you’ve done so much to be proud of? I guess I’m just confused, because... uh, well...” She flushed a little, fidgeting. “I don’t get how someone didn’t tell you how proud of you they were, because you’re pretty great, I guess.”

“You guess?” Weiss asked through a soft laugh.

“I know.” Ruby corrected herself, suddenly serious. “I _know_ that you’re pretty great, and that you deserve to be told that the people you care about are proud of you.”

“That’s...” Her shoulders shook. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” Because she couldn’t, couldn’t have known how much it actually _meant_ to hear Ruby say that.

“Hey, don’t doubt your fearless leader, it’s kinda rude.” Ruby chastised, reaching out again, wrapping her arms around Weiss and bringing her into a hug.

“Apologies.” Weiss murmured, laying her forehead on her shoulder. She couldn’t muster the energy to hug back, her palms stinging and burning from her impulsive cupping of Ruby’s face. Her nose brushed against the skin of her neck, her cheek rubbing against the material of Ruby’s tank top. “Pride... you take _pride_ in me, truly?” Her voice came out muffled, and if she had opened her eyes she would’ve seen Ruby blush.

“Uh, of course.” Ruby mumbled, sounding sort of sheepish. “You’re my best friend, Weiss. My _partner._” She paused for a moment, holding Weiss a little bit closer to her. “I wish I could tell you it everyday until you start to believe it, and then everyday after that so you never forget.”

Weiss let out a watery chuckle. “...awfully romantic of you to say something like that, I think.” 

“Romantic?” Ruby squeaked, pulling away, hands on Weiss’ shoulders as she stared at her with wide eyes.

“You’re view of me, it’s... idyllic, almost. It must be, if you—” Weiss paused, blinking remnants of tears in her eyes and tilting her a head a little in confusion. “Why are you doing that with your face?”

Ruby’s cheeks were bright red, eyes wide and lips pursed. She looked almost frozen, an embarrassed haze over her gaze. “Um.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Weiss asked, frowning, shaking off Ruby’s hands from her shoulders and lifting a hand to her forehead. Perhaps she was sick? She didn’t feel too warm... “Did I say something weird?”

“_Um._” Ruby squeaked out again, slipping back and away from her. She shook off her daze, reaching down and picking up Weiss’ nightgown, handing it to her and looking stubbornly to the side—her cheeks still red.

Weiss took it from her, her fists clenching around the material as she only felt more worried. What if Ruby really was sick? “Should we go to the nurse? Do you need to lay down—”

“I thought you meant...” Ruby winced, cringing and putting her hands behind her back, twitching awkwardly. “Uh, _romantic_ romantic.”

“...pardon?” She asked through a frown, only feeling more and more confused. “What does saying the word twice have to do with—” Weiss faltered, blinking for a moment. “Oh.”

And then her face promptly burst into flame, burning red to the tip of her ears down to her sternum and chest. 

The idea was a fearsome one. Weiss hadn’t been thinking of Ruby like that, had she? No, of course not—but the sound of it, the very _idea_, was utterly and entirely overwhelming, she had already settled that notion. Falling in love with Ruby Rose would be the scariest thing that would ever happen to her, if things were heading that way.

Her mother had fallen into a similar trap, she knew, had seen her father and watched the way his string refused to join hers. He was charming, and she had been utterly besotted by him, by his false promises and potential—and now she had no strings to show for it, a drunken recluse trapped in the manor she had once called home. Her mother, who had lost her grip on the love she’d once held, a shell of a woman that Weiss would never know, would only ever hear stories about.

_**Romantic**, romantic._

Oh _please_, as though Weiss would succumb to such a blasphemous emotion. Even liking Ruby as she did now had come with consequences, to fall in love with her like this, to even think about it?

Something around her neck tightened, and terror seared the back of her throat.

“Weiss?” Ruby’s voice broke through her thoughts. She was looking at her, cheeks still slightly flushed but eyes more concerned than anything else.

“Yes?” She coughed out, voice strained.

“Are you okay?” Ruby asked, “You sort of... uh, zoned out there for a sec.”

“Fine.” She squeaked out. “Just... dandy.” Weiss’ hands twitched, and she resisted the urge to tug at the slowly tightening string around her neck. “I am... I am going to get ready for bed, now.”

“Wait! Are you—”

But Weiss was already fleeing to the bathroom, an easy feat considering just how close she was to it. She locked the door behind her, her back hitting the door as she slumped in on herself and buried her face into her nightgown. Her throat hurt, a subtle throbbing sensation, almost like she was recovering from a cold. That was good at least, it wouldn’t do to have Ruby panicking if Weiss suddenly started to keel over and suffocate on nothing. 

Not to mention it would be very obvious as to _why_ she was suddenly in pain. Ruby may not always piece things together or understand certain concepts, but she was wicked smart when she wanted to be.

Weiss swallowed, and reluctantly began to get changed. 

It had been a tiring day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt like it was time that weiss made friends outside of the people she was connected to. while writing renora + weiss i was listening to guys by the 1975 and honestly it shows lmao.
> 
> oh, and slightly dense weiss owns my heart ngl
> 
> anyway, can u imagine what winter must've felt when asked by her sister to do the same thing she'd done to her mother? can u imagine that, going to visit your little sister in hopes of solving the issue that tore apart your family the first time, only to find that she had resolved herself in the same thing your mother had, tearing her bonds from her body and using winter to do it?
> 
> i've had this whole thing planned since chapter two so i've had ample time to ponder everything
> 
> oh and i know some people might be disappointed about willow and jacques, but even monsters have soulmates


	7. you look like you've just seen a monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss' strings have real world consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't really practiced fight scenes very much, so i hope i did a good job. oh, this is the chapter where the tag 'canon typical violence' comes into play, so there's grimm. honestly i've been planning this since like... chapter three or four. this chapter got kinda graphic tbh... i don't know how to appropriately warn everyone? because honestly damn. oh, some eye horror, and people get injured
> 
> it's so funny to me that i pumped out like.... 9,000 words in one day, i mean i've been at this for hours, it's one in the morning right now, i'm very tired. but like total this chap is maybe around 13,000 words long? i don't know i'm tired
> 
> inspiration is weird

If Weiss was being quite honest, she knew that eventually there would be a slip up. She had been worried about it since day one, and the first time the strings reacted badly enough to put her out of commission only solidified the worries she’d begun to have. After the rather expected thoughts of _‘ow’_ and _‘is this what death feels like?’ _she found herself wondering the horrible implications of what might happen to her when working out in the field.

While terrifying, she had much more pressing issues to attend to, and hadn’t gotten the chance to properly sit and think about it. She’d mostly resolved herself to grievous injury or death while hunting and then promptly decided not to think about it until things were fixed. Though even if she _did_ have the time to properly sit and think on it, any scenario she could come up with probably _wouldn’t_ have been this one.

Which meant that any solution she could have potentially thought up to help her when suffering the strings while hunting would not have mattered in the slightest.

(She didn’t know which was worse, not bothering to come up with a usable plan due to personal issues like some sort of reckless imbecile, or the knowledge that even if she _had_ thought of anything useful she still would have been woefully unprepared for the disastrous hunting trip ahead of her.)

Regardless, it had actually been a nice day up to that. Though, she supposes that the worst days sometimes tend to start the best. It started when they were readying themselves for the mission. They had known where they were going about two days beforehand, of course, so Weiss had properly prepared herself for the ordeal. 

It was, after all, one of her grandfather’s mines.

A failed one, obviously. From the brief venture of trying to expand the company’s range and influence to another kingdom. It didn’t work, mostly due to a mixture of sabotage, fear, and a surprising amount of sudden Grimm in the area. Still, other than the standard ‘_my grandfather stood where I will’_ thoughts, she was relatively fine. 

Though, that did not mean she was _entirely_ fine.

In order to... feel a little bit better, Weiss had contacted Winter, in hopes that she might forward a transcript of anything in Grandfather’s journals (because he was the type of man who kept that sort of thing) that might mention anything about this mine in question. Which, on the next day, only led to another conversation about the strings that Weiss was better off avoiding, in her own personal opinion.

“Grandfather left because of the obvious.” Winter had explained to her over the monitor as she sent Weiss the information. “Nobody really liked the way he so easily curried favor with those around him, so sabotage from some in Vale was to be expected.”

“But prepared for?” Weiss asked.

“Yes.” Her sister suddenly looked a great deal more tired. “He had expected opposition in the form of _people._”

Weiss felt herself frown, with all she knew about him, it seemed strange that he wouldn’t be prepared for other obstacles. Wasn’t her Grandfather a wonderful warrior? Honorable and just until the very end? “It would be unlike him to forget the threat of Grimm.” She murmured, grabbing her scroll and scanning through the journal entries.

“Normal Grimm, he was prepared for.” Winter smiled. “It was an older one, unencountered before... he doesn’t go into much detail but he does mention, well—”

“It _what?!_” Weiss exclaimed in shock, dropping her scroll against the keyboard with a clatter and drawing the attention of the others in the library call room. She scowled at them, glaring until they turned away, and looked back to her (now looking rather unimpressed) sister.

“Well.” Winter said, raising a single brow. “It seems that Beacon truly _has _ affected your sense of tact.”

“Excuse me.” She nearly snarled, “But how exactly did you expect me to take the information that there are Grimm _that can see them_?”

“Not just see.” Winter added as a matter of fact, looking almost amused. “Grandfather wrote that it pulled many of his workers' threads, killing them by tugging hard enough, almost like a rope game—”

“I think I’m going to be sick, I don't need the specifics.” Weiss mumbled, looking back down at the scroll. “I need... I need to notify my team, hopefully the headmaster will approve of reinforcements—”

“I already called.” Winter said, completely unashamed. “Your _other_... friends. JNPR, I believe, will be attending to you, along with Goodwitch.”

“Ozpin—”

“Knows quite a bit, unsurprisingly.” Her sister scoffed, rolling her eyes a little bit. Weiss was so thrown by blatant notion disrespect for her headmaster that she almost fell off her chair in shock. Winter, taking notice, scowled harder. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of being disapproving of a figure of authority.” Weiss croaked out, “Please excuse my surprise.”

“You clearly don’t know much of the school or headmaster in Vacuo.” Winter grumped out. “Listen close, sister, and listen well—whatever you find in the mine will not be good; that monster is _attracted_ to people like us, as you will find in the journal, but Ozpin could not ethically send a team without someone who can see them out to that mine.”

“And why does he seem to think that first year students will be able to handle it?” Weiss asked her.

Winter hesitated. “Your friend, Miss Valkyrie.”

“What about her?” Her eyes narrowed.

“She can make others see them.” Winter said. “Before you get any ideas, know that I did _not_ say anything. Ozpin knew all on his own, he also seemed under the impression that as soon as your team found out that she would be... _asked_ to attend, you would follow regardless of orders.”

Weiss stayed silent, coughing awkwardly and steadily avoiding the judgement in Winter’s eyes.

“He was also wary of sending out too many teams.” Winter sighed, leaning forward and crossing her hands in front of her face, looking every bit the perfect soldier she had claimed to be. “The original mission was simply to clean out the above and surrounding area, then report back anything that might be deemed suspicious—but with so many people... well he’s worried that it may only attract the Grimm more.”

“Is he sending us to—”

“No.” Winter cut her off immediately, eyes blazing. “I believe that he will tell you to stay as far away from the entrance of the mine as possible, when... he said that in the event that he cannot manage to get a hold of some licensed hunters who also have the gift, he would see about taking care of the issue himself.” She was silent for a moment. “I would never let him do that to you.”

“Ah.” Weiss sighed out. “Thank you... but, he can see them?”

“It appears so.” Winter said, looking awkward for a brief moment. “He had some _things_ to say about well, needlessly putting yourself in danger ‘because of a refusal of something rather simple’ but respected your determination for trying to better things.”

“That is...” Weiss paused. “Not at all reassuring.” 

“Not a very reassuring man, that Ozpin.” Winter murmured. “Be careful, sister, I have no desire to see you fall victim of such a creature.”

For the life of her, Weiss could not tell whether or not Winter meant Ozpin, or the Grimm.

* * *

“You have to tell her soon.” Nora saddled up next to her, shoving Jaune away from them both and ignoring his sound of protest. “Like, _really _ soon.”

Weiss snorted, watching the way Jaune stumbled his way toward Pyrrha to pout. She gripped the wall handle just a little bit tighter when she turned to look back at Nora, trying to ignore the dread that danced down her spine. “I should, yes.” Weiss agreed quietly.

Nora watched her, eyes earnest if unimpressed. She puffed out her cheeks, dramatically blowing a raspberry and shaking her head. “You aren’t going to, are you?” She asked, hands on her hips, completely at ease in the air despite the occasional bouts of turbulence.

Weiss scowled, annoyed. “Well excuse me for thinking that there was more _time_—”

“Weiss,” Nora cut her off, “our luck totally _sucks_, there is no way in hell we’re getting out of this without meeting that Grimm.” 

She was right, of course, not that Weiss wanted to admit it. It would be a miracle. She grimaced, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the handle even harder. A weak laugh escaped her throat, “Well, obviously not anymore, since you’ve gone and jinxed us.”

Nora made a noise. “_Weiss_.”

“Sorry, bad joke?” She asked apologetically, grip loosening as she turned to face Nora a little better. 

“Eh, more like bad timing.” Nora said, waving her words away with a lazy hand.

Weiss frowned, and didn’t exactly pout but came very close. “But _you_ make jokes at bad times.”

“Yeah but _I’m_ actually funny.” She retorted, crossing her arms and shooting Weiss a look. Her eyes seemed serious for a moment, like they were stripping her layer by layer and seeing the depths of what Weiss struggled to keep secret. Finally, Nora sighed, pursing her lips and jabbing her hard in the right shoulder. “She’s in the back with Blake, go talk to her.”

Weiss stared for a moment, her hand going to rub where Nora had touched. “...can you—”

“No, I will not ask Blake to tell her.” Nora said, laughing. “Coward.” 

“Rude.” Weiss frowned, averting her gaze. “But, unfortunately, very true.”

Was she always such a coward when it came to this?

No, she didn’t think so. It was the newness of everything around her, the people and the fondness that she held for them that made her... _selfish_. Desperate, almost; as though a single mistake would ruin everything that she had kept hoarded to her chest. She felt insatiable, the hunger for warmth and something steady to sustain her life and love a gnawing, aching thing. It was too heavy to hold inside the brittle bones of her ribcage, too scorching and _important_ to be kept tucked away in the deepest trenches of her heart.

So it was _more_ than cowardice then. It was _more_ than _hunger_, and _love,_ and _desperation_.

An impossible feeling to describe, this thing which made her what she was decidedly not, this thing that had such a profound impact on her—made her more ruthless than she already was. Despite the negative connotations, despite the prickle in the back of her throat when she thought of it, she couldn’t help but feel...

(How could she put it? How could she even begin to describe such a feeling, such a state of mind? How could she even begin to sort the messy feelings of fondness that had clouded her judgement so? That had made it clearer on occasion?)

Nora, noticing the stubborn set of her jaw and the harsh lines in her tense shoulders, wrapped her in a bone breaking hug, lifting her and spinning her around easily. “No more of that, Ice Queen!”

Weiss let out a startled yelp. “Just _what_ do you think you’re _doing_?!”

Nora laughed, setting her down, “You needed an attitude adjustment.”

“You didn’t have to try and _break_ my ribs—”

“C’mon, Weiss, woman up!” Nora punched her on the same shoulder as last time, and Weiss very privately wondered if minor physical harm was her way of showing affection. “You _got_ this, you’re a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man.”

Under normal circumstances, Weiss would agree with these words very much. But there was one issue, see, while she was a strong, independent person (and most certainly didn’t need any type of man, thank you very much) she _did_ in fact need her partner. Ruby was her friend, Ruby was—

_More_ than that, actually.

And the choice that she had to make could _change_ all of that. She was selfish, in this respect, wanting so earnestly for things to keep going as they were, to not have to worry about any sense of loss. 

But the problem with that was how naive it had been. 

There was _already_ strain on their relationship, no matter how much Weiss bettered it. It was a constant lingering in Weiss’ mind; the strings, the way they affected the people they tied together. She was much better than she had been, of course, no longer hinging everything on the success or failure of them—but that didn’t mean it didn’t wear on her. It was like a constant battering of, _why why why why—_

To which there was no answer except that she was _not_ going to be the most impactful to the person who would be the most impactful on her.

“Uh.” Weiss began, falling short. “Well—”

Nora scrunched up her nose. “Oh for the love of—_please_ don’t tell me you need a man.”

“What?” Weiss blanched, “_No_, ew.” 

(Saying 'ew' might have been a tad childish, but it had felt right.)

“Then _what_—” Nora blinked, realization bleeding into her expression. “—ohhhhhh.”

Dread weighed down her shoulders, making Weiss shift uncomfortably. “I don’t like what you’re doing with your mouth.”

“You don’t need no man.” Nora said, ignoring her and looking far too fed up for information that was apparently new. “But you _do_ need a Ruby.” 

“That’s not—”

“Ugh.” Nora groaned, rubbing at her face. “Does _anyone_ here actually know how to talk about their feelings? _No_, because they are emotionally immature little _babies_.”

Weiss stared for a moment, and it was as though she could _feel _ Nora’s pure judgment radiating outward. She nodded once, looking around for anything to choke herself to death with, before settling and turning back to Nora. “I am going to go strangle myself with Gambol Shroud, please excuse me—”

“That’s on the way to Ruby though.” She pointed out, no longer looking quite as fed up but still rather done with the entire situation.

Weiss hesitated for a moment, looking toward the front of the airship. “...I am going to go ask Pyrrha to snap my neck, please excuse me—”

“Weiss, c’mon.” Nora sighed, dropping a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from actually going toward Pyrrha. “You just gotta pump yourself up—prepare yourself for it.”

“_How_?” Weiss asked, sounding more morose than she’d meant to.

“Uhhhh...” Nora began, caught off guard for a moment. Her eyes twinkled suddenly, a look of impishness that had Weiss wanting to run in the opposite direction. “Wanna do a push up competition?”

Oh. That wasn’t actually so bad, she'd been expecting much worse. “Not particularly.” She still said, despite the fact that she had expected much worse from Nora.

She crossed her arms, shooting her a cocky look. “Because your arms are twigs?”

Weiss recoiled, scowling darkly. “My arms are _not_ twigs—”

“Prove it then.” Nora said. “Push up contest, right here right now.”

“No.” She hissed back, unable to hide her annoyance.

“Prove it.” Nora only retorted.

“No.”

“_Prove_!”

“_No_!”

Weiss turned and stomped off in the opposite direction, thoroughly fed up, before realizing too late that she was heading toward the back of the airship. She turned to look back, finding that Nora was shooting her a smug look. She waved, blowing her a kiss, and Weiss suddenly very much wished the airship would crash. 

Resolving herself, she continued walking, it was already a bit too late to turn back.

Blake, upon noticing her arrival, promptly stood up and moved to leave. Her bow twitched a little, and suddenly it was quite obvious that she must have heard every word of her conversation with Nora. “Ah, I need to go get Yang for something—”

“Oh you _bitch_—” Weiss snarled quietly.

“—bye!” Then she was gone, slipping past her with little more than a wave and small smile.

“Huh.” Ruby said, she was sitting on one of the seats, tilting her head in a little bit of confusion. She met Weiss’ gaze, smiling a little in greeting. “Is it just me or was that weird and abrupt?”

“Yes.” She answered.

“_Weird_.” Ruby noted, curiously looking after Blake.

“And abrupt.” Weiss added agreeably.

“_Weiss_.” Ruby said, letting out a small laugh. 

“Not a good joke?” She asked, crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. She really seemed to be off her game today. (Not that many except Sun seemed to find her jokes funny anyway, but it was the _principle_ of the thing.)

“It was alright.” Ruby decided after a moment, sending her a soft look.

Weiss couldn’t quite help her pleased smile.

Ruby turned pink, ducking her head and coughing into a fist. “Uh, anyway, are you... gonna be okay?”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“I mean, Professor Ozpin told us not to go inside because of that Grimm, I thought that... well, I thought that you might want to see it.” Ruby explained.

Weiss stared at her, surprised. She didn’t know why she was, of course Ruby would pick up on what she was feeling. She swallowed a little roughly, ducking her head and trying not to make her appreciation obvious. There was no stopping the swarm of emotion that warmed her chest, though she forced herself to move through it.

“Ah.” Weiss murmured, glancing upward to meet Ruby’s eyes for a moment. “There’s no helping it.”

“Yeah, still kinda sucks though.” Ruby said, looking like she wanted to reach out and grab her hand. “Did you know your grandpa real well?”

“Yes.” Weiss told her, moving to sit down next to her. “And no.”

It was like that for most of her family members, actually. (Well, the family members that weren’t her siblings) She had this image of them in her mind, of what they’d done, how they’d treated her; and then she’d find something new, something old, something forgotten—and the image of them would be skewed into an unrecognizable mess until she managed pieced everything back together into another picture of them. But then, she’d find another (new, old, forgotten) thing that turned her mind on it’s head.

She sort of hated that, that no matter how much she learned about her family—(her mother, her grandfather)—she would probably never properly understand them.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about something else?” Ruby asked her hesitantly, reaching her hand out with the palm up, silently gesturing for her to take it.

Weiss blinked hazily, and after a moment very carefully grabbed her hand. “Please.” She tried to ignore how vulnerable her voice escaped her, quiet and full of something she didn’t want to think about.

“Oh! Cool.” Ruby said, floundering for a moment. It appeared she hadn’t expected Weiss to actually want to grab her hand. “Um, I actually have something to tell you. Uh, after the mission.”

Ruby stared at their joined hands for a moment, squeezing Weiss’ palm comfortingly. How strange it was, the pinpricks in her skin that traveled up her arm and down her spine with that single motion; as though she had been the victim of an electric shock, left shaking and full of static. Her chest ached, heart pounding just a little bit faster—blood rushing to her ears and cheeks.

Weiss closed her eyes, basking in the odd sense of warmth for a moment. 

The way she felt... The way that things seemed to be escalating in such a way that Weiss was in no way prepared for—it was all so blindingly _warm._ Like she was showered in moonlight every time Ruby looked at her, eyes glittering like silvery stars, beautiful and striking, turning Weiss into a breathless mess. There was no salvation for a feeling like this, ritualistic and ancient.

Could it be?

Was it possible?

For it to be—

(Love?)

Yes. Perhaps.

It was that, or something rather terrifyingly close to it.

What was she to do, in the face of something like this? She could accept it, of course, the fondness that encompassed her in Ruby’s company; could learn to live with it, learn to adore it as much as she adored the person it belonged to. Or she could try and fight back, to deny and deny and deny until she’d brutalized herself, ripped her own heart from her chest and chucked it into the sea.

Both of the options were daunting in their own ways, the acceptance of such a feeling equaling the acceptance of what could be used against her, the refusal of such a feeling equaling the refusal of what had been wonderful. Another internal war for her to face, another battle waged inside herself that she had no idea how to resolve. She was almost getting tired of the way her head seemed to react to her heart, cool logic freezing the impulsive surges of warmth. 

Hadn’t she encountered something similar to this, in the past? 

Couldn’t she just... accept that she was frighteningly close to (_falling in love—_) caring for Ruby? Couldn’t she just acknowledge that the feelings were there, that they could be acted upon if she desired it? Couldn’t she do all that, and then make sure nothing came from it? Isn’t that what she did with her strings?

(Isn’t that what she failed to do with them? Accepting and pursuing all but one, the crimson red wrapped around her neck.)

All of it came to one decision, all she had to do to set her on the proper path was tell the truth. She could do it, just this once; she could overcome her cowardice in this, she could—no, she _would_ do this.

“I...” Weiss swallowed, opening up her eyes. “I actually need to tell you something as well.” She had chosen the path she would take, she would not stray from it now.

“You do?” Ruby blinked.

“Yes it’s...” She resolved herself, the look on her face going very serious. “_Important_.”

“Important?” Something flashed in her expression, a nervous, almost fearful thing.

“Yes.” Weiss nodded resolutely, if she couldn’t get it out it would all be for naught. “I... I should tell you...” She grit her teeth, gathering her courage and forcing her mouth to move. “I need to tell you now, if that’s agreeable.”

“Alright.” Ruby said, noticing the struggle in Weiss’ expression. “What is it?”

“I... The string around—”

The airship wobbles unsteadily, and Professor Goodwitch’s voice from the intercom makes Weiss jump.

“Can you tell me real quick?” Ruby asked, looking away for a moment. “We have to get off in a sec.”

“Ah...” And Weiss (curse her, curse her, _curse her—_) hesitated. “Later, then.”

“Alright.” Ruby said after a moment, squeezing her hand one last time before reluctantly letting go. “I need to go check in with Jaune and Professor Goodwitch... are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes.” Weiss smiled, already having a great deal of practice hiding great deals of sadness. “Don’t worry.”

“It’s not like you make it easy.” Ruby grumbled goodnaturedly.

She rose an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms and shooting her a look. “You do realize the same can be said for you?”

“Pssh.” Ruby waved her away, cheeks pink as she started to get up and leave. “Whatever.” 

Weiss watched her escape with a fond (if a little sad) smile.

She put her head in her hands as soon as Ruby was gone, groaning into her palms as she tried not to feel entirely terrible for what happened. It goes without saying that she failed, quite badly actually; a crash and burn for the ages. She had been right about to do it too—the words on the tip of her tongue, she had been _prepared_ for the aftermath and then she had _hesitated._

If things went to shit, Weiss was sure she only had herself to blame.

Goodness, what would she even do? If they encountered that monster, if Nora had to give everyone the sight, what could Weiss even do to make it better? She could scarcely imagine the look on Ruby’s face, seeing the color of her aura wrapped tight around Weiss’ throat, shifting and slithering and encompassing the most vulnerable spot. How would she react? When she looked down at her own throat and saw nothing? Saw the way the end of the string floated around her, not daring to touch her?

The fear was an inescapable thing, a terrible, awful thing. 

She had to get a grip on herself, nothing bad had happened yet, the more she wallowed in her own terror the worse it could get; the Grimm would be attracted to the sudden influx of negative emotion.

“I’m guessing you didn’t tell her?” A voice asked, and Weiss looked up to see Blake saddling up next to her, expression unreadable.

Weiss looked down at her hands, “I was about to.”

“Sure.” She sounded skeptical, arms crossed and lips pursed. Blake seemed stressed, her fingers drumming against her bicep as she shot Weiss a look full of disapproval.

“I _ was._” Weiss protested weakly, looking back down, ignoring the burning at the edges of her vision. It wouldn’t do to cry, especially for something so... Well, she couldn’t exactly say it wasn’t important, so crying could actually be considered valid if she was anyone else. 

But she _wasn’t_ anyone else, she was _Weiss Schnee_, she was stronger than this; powering through a few tears should mean _nothing._

Blake tapped her idly on the shoulder, getting her to look up at her, and her expression had gone soft. “You can still say something, if you time it right.” She murmured quietly, absentmindedly straightening out Weiss’ collar. Awkwardness seemed to drip from her actions, as though giving advice was like pulling teeth.

“Like what?” Weiss scoffed quietly. “I... I should have told her as soon as I found out about the Grimm—”

“Yeah, no shit.” Blake interjected, reaching up and flicking her forehead when Weiss scowled. “I don’t know what to do about this either—it feels like there’s no right answer, be honest and risk enough negative emotion that the Grimm swarm us or lie and risk being absolutely blindsided.”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to tell the truth?” Weiss asked sullenly, rubbing at the area Blake had flicked. “Don’t you and Yang have a relatively honest relationship?”

“Just because I have that doesn’t mean I know how I did it.” Blake admitted to her quietly. “Seriously, I don’t know, one moment Yang and I were just friendly the next we were what we were... It’s actually kind of terrifying, in retrospect.”

“Fair.” Weiss nodded, laughing a little weakly.

“You know...” Blake trailed off, her tone going almost teasing. “Comparing yourself and Ruby to _Yang and I_? Someone could read into that, if they wanted to.”

“No.” Weiss refused immediately.

Blake almost looked amused. “What is it?”

“We _are not_ talking about this.” She said sternly, Weiss was in no way, shape, or form ready for any kind of conversation about her... feelings. She’d just only come to terms with them anyway, and it’s not like she intended to _do_ anything about it.

“I guess that’s fair.” Blake said with a soft laugh. “But if you ever want to—” 

They both suddenly went very, very still.

Weiss wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. She felt like every move she made was encompassed by ice, burning cold and shattering with the motion it took to move. Nausea swarmed her, and she fought the increased urge to lose her lunch.

Blake didn’t seem to be doing much better, one palm pressed desperately against the wall of the airship, trying not to let the sudden vertigo cause her to collapse.

Around them, the strings seemed to dim like badly powered light bulbs, sputtering with light before going dark before doing it all over again. They tightened around them _both_ a warning, a plea to leave.

“Do you... feel that?” Weiss managed out.

“Yes... should we ask Nora—”

They were interrupted by loud steps making their way toward them. Nora was looking just as sick as they felt, her strings also seeming to be begging her to leave. Their teammates watched them all with wide eyes, only Professor Goodwitch—standing at the very front of the airship—seemed to be keeping her cool. None of them looked like they were experiencing the vertigo, but they certainly looked worried enough for Weiss to take notice.

“You guys feel that funky shit too, right?” Nora groaned out, rubbing at her shoulders and gritting her teeth.

The airship did a sudden dip.

“Yes.” Blake said calmly when Weiss yelped.

“Right.” Nora nodded, a little shakily. “We gotta tell everyone.”

“I’m sure they already know.” Weiss wheezed out, “With us looking like we’re dying and all.”

“You’re no fun sometimes, Ice Queen.” Nora laughed, a bit of color returning to her face. The nausea seemed to be lifting on all of them slightly, but it was still there, prevalent and pounding in the back of their minds. “We’re gonna make it.”

“There you go.” Weiss murmured, “Jinxing us again."

Nora stuck her tongue out at her, slapping Weiss lightly on the shoulder. “We’re gonna be fine, just you wait and see.”

* * *

They were not fine.

No, see instead of being perfectly fine and dandy they were _trapped._

It had been alright at first. Jaune and Ruby had decided to take their teams and start on opposite sides, meeting in the middle when the area (big, sprawling, obviously abandoned) was clear. RWBY had gone left and JNPR right, all of them on edge and triple checking to make sure that their comms wouldn’t fail.

“The ground is unstable.” Professor Goodwitch had noticed, “Be careful with overuse dust and explosions, we don’t want anyone getting trapped underground—I shall make sure to keep it as level as I can in the case of any... accidents.” She shot them all an unimpressed look, making them all twitch sheepishly. “This is... more than a lesson, I am afraid, do be careful if you can, children; I have no wish to inform your families of any untimely demises, and the Headmaster is not a fan of the paperwork required.” It went unsaid that Ozpin made Goodwitch do most of it.

Weiss snorted a little.

“Miss Schnee.” Goodwitch noted, almost amused bust mostly annoyed. “As much as I _appreciate_—” (Weiss noticed that she was being very sarcastic) “—your good humor, you of all people should know how dangerous it is to use excess force near a _dust mine._”

“Of course, Professor.” She said, smiling her usually very successful _ ‘there’s a teacher nearby and I didn't do anything wrong’_ smile.

Goodwitch suddenly looked a great deal more exasperated than before, and went back to reminding them of the mission and it’s parameters. They knew it all already of course, but it was always good to go over things just in case. It was standard, low level Grimm that could put up a great fuss in packs but otherwise remained easily defeated.

It was almost a taunt, the fact that deep below them lay a monster that was stronger than the most of the Grimm here combined.

Ruby led them out, her face a great deal more serious than before. Weiss had affectionately dubbed this her ‘mission face’ and when Yang and Blake found out they had taken great pleasure in teasing them both—Weiss for coming up with a simple name so fondly and Ruby for giving her a reason to do so in the first place.

Things started out just fine, they were_ routine _ even.

Throughout it all the dread never left Weiss, nor Blake; but the both of them forced themselves to make do despite the overwhelming sense of _wrong_ that seemed to follow them wherever they went. Ruby and Yang had noticed this, because of course they had, and had been not-so-subtly keeping an eye on them both. 

Weiss had initially bristled, but after a stern look from Ruby and a tired, _‘we can’t really object, as much as I don’t like it’_ from Blake, she’d reluctantly conceded that it was probably a good idea.

“I’ve got a plan, Weiss.” Ruby said reassuringly.

“You always do.” She had grumbled out, much more fondly than she’d intended. And so (after receiving knowing looks from Blake and Yang) they had foraged on, working together as best they could given the circumstances. 

But of course, _teamwork_ couldn’t quite save Blake and Weiss from their inevitable fate. The ground had crumbled beneath them right as they had reunited with team JNPR. Goodwitch had desperately attempted to keep them afloat, managing to stabilize the ground once more, but it was all for naught—Grimm had been attracted to the panic.

Weiss had been sent sprawling backward after an unforeseen swipe. She managed to land onto her feet after a bit of tricky maneuvering, right on top of one of Professor Goodwitch’s floating pieces of earth. 

“Miss Schnee, I highly recommend you get yourself to somewhere more _stable_—”

(Which was a good point, seeing as how Weiss was one misstep from falling into a giant hole.)

“I got her!” Blake yelled out, ducking and rolling out of the way of a particularly jumpy Beowolf, “Don’t panic, Weiss!”

“What do you—ooph!” She yelped, shocked as ribbon wrapped around the piece of ground, Blake swinging up toward her. Weiss managed to regain her balance, using Myrtenaster to steady herself. 

Blake landed right next to her. “Sorry about that, Weiss.”

“Oh I'm _sure_—look out!” Weiss lifted her rapier, glyphs forming red around her as she fired a shot toward a Lancer that had zoomed after Blake. 

“Stupid.” Blake grumbled, wrapping an arm around Weiss’ waist right before they were set catapulting backward from the force of the shot. She managed to get her ribbon around another floating piece of earth, and the two of them were sent swinging on their way.

“Well _excuse me_—” Weiss retorted.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t appreciated.” Blake gasped out when the two of them landed unsteadily, “Only that it was stupid.”

“Yes well—”

“Nora!” Jaune screamed out.

A blur of orange and pink was sent falling toward the darkness, and Weiss was sure that she heard a large amount of colorful swearing following her. Without seeming to think much about it, Blake jumped in after her, and Weiss—desperate to make sure that Nora slowed—summoned a couple of glyphs in Nora’s path of descent.

Another wave of vertigo, stronger than the last, made her stumble. 

Her strings tightened around her, almost as though trying to keep her stable, her knee locking and her chest being yanked backward—making it so that her back hit the ground (was it appropriate to call a floating chunk of earth ground?) and prevented her from falling in.

“Thanks.” She wheezed out, only a little sarcastic. 

“Miss Schnee, please _move_—!” 

The ground beneath her shook, falling a couple feet from the sky.

Professor Goodwitch was losing her concentration, having to fight so many of the larger Grimm to keep off of her students. It was certainly admirable; her dedication to keeping them safe. The professor shot Weiss an exasperated look, gesturing her riding crop to the side, and Weiss only had a moment's warning before the chunk of rock beneath her was sent flying to the side; a desperate attempt to get her away from the giant hole.

Bits of gray rock flew sharply toward her, all except one she managed to deflect or dodge. Weiss shakily stood to her feet, preparing herself to leap toward where everyone else was fighting, aware of the way that her aura had faltered under the shrapnel, her cheek bleeding.

“Weiss!” Ruby called, positioned on Crescent Rose, “Hurry! I’ll catch you if you fall!”

She obeyed without thinking much, managing shaky platform glyphs, leaping just as the rock beneath her began to fall into the crater. Her movements were desperate, aware of the nausea from the monster beneath slowing every motion she made. 

“Weiss!” Ruby called in relief, extending her hand. They were close now, Weiss only a jump away from reaching her. “Now—”

But the sound of startled yelps had convinced Weiss to look back. 

Nora and Blake, who’d managed to make it up top, were falling back in again—a mixture of the ground crumbling beneath them and attacking Grimm sending them sprawling backward, into the darkness below. There was nothing for Blake to grab onto, and the two had positioned themselves as though they expected to _hit the bottom_—

“Weiss!” Ruby called again, a little more desperate this time.

Weiss looked at her partner for a split second, aware of the way time seemed to slow when she met her gaze. 

Ruby's face was a little pale. Dirt smeared on her cheek, looking a little ruffled but otherwise alright. Her eyes seemed to shine, and Weiss almost smiled. They were so wonderful, those strange eyes of hers, as nice to look at as the person they belonged to.

Silver, startling and wonderful—

_(And desperate and worried and absolutely fearful—)_

Weiss tried to shoot her a reassuring smile, and then after a slightly annoyed sigh, leaped into the pit.

She was aware of the sound of her name being shouted out, by her partner and friends, but forced herself to shove it out of her mind. Weiss hastily shoved her rapier into its sheath, throwing her hand out and forcing herself to summon glyphs in front of her, speeding up her descent toward them.

Nora’s eyes widened when she realized what was happening; Weiss noticed the position they were in, Nora who had taken hold of Blake, wrapping her arms around her and making sure that her back was toward the bottom. She knew that they were going to fall, and that she could take the impact at the bottom when Blake could not.

Weiss grit her teeth, taking a fistful of the back of Blake’s shirt, shoving an arm past Nora’s head and calling forth the last bit of power she had to slow their descent. She was sure she heard Nora yell out something similar to, “_You fucking dumbass_,” but was unsure when the whistle of the wind seemed to strip away any of the words they could say.

They hit the ground hard, no glyphs being able to quite slow their descent enough for no damage to be taken. Nora grunted, her aura zapping pink around her as she took most of the hit. One thing they did not take into account, however, was that the ground below was uneven, a slope that sent them sprawling and rolling downhill. A scream ripped itself from all of them, the only one even close to keeping their composure being Nora, whose shout sounded like a mix between a shout and a whoop.

Weiss bit her tongue on accident when an elbow went into her gut, and that was how she became aware of the fact that Blake was essentially sandwiched between her and Nora as they rolled further down and into the darkness. They smacked against each other and rock, and had it not been for the remnants of their aura Weiss was sure they’d all be dead.

They slowed a little, slamming against what felt like a railing, the metal smacking against her back. A cry of pain escaped her, her mouth tasting of copper. Blake groaned and Nora let out a weak whoop, all of them were content to lay there for a moment trying to regain their breath.

Weiss couldn’t see a thing except for the soft glowing of their strings.

They laid there for a great while before anyone said anything, the only sounds their shaky breathing as they forced themselves to recuperate a little of their lost aura. It must have been half an hour before Weiss was able to think clearly, able to ignore the painful throbbing of just about every part of her body.

“I think my arm is broken.” Nora laughed out, breaking the silence first. “This was fun though, maybe we should do it again, but next time _without_ the more life-threatening shit.”

“You?” Blake wheezed weakly, what felt like the back of her head smacking against Weiss’ chest. “Not wanting to play in stuff that can kill you? Didn’t know I’d ever see the day.”

“Ow.” Weiss murmured quietly. "Please don't do that again, it hurt."

“Oh yeah, you’re here too.” Nora said, sounding only a tad hysterical. “Thanks, without you we probably would have been in _way _worse shape; but as your friend I’m contractually obligated to tell you that what you just did was so _fucking stupid_—”

“I realize that.” Weiss interrupted her, “I think I broke my ankle.”

“I, on the other hand, can say I only have bruises, so thank you both for that.” Blake murmured, rolling over off of Weiss. The three of them were laying on what felt like a bridge, it was certainly narrow enough for one—with railings on either side of them, though one seemed encased in rubble and the other blocking them off from what might've been an even deeper pit. “This place... is creepy.”

“Oh right, night vision.” Nora coughed, and in the dim light she could see her clutching her broken arm to her chest. “Weiss, I think that maybe you stabbed me a little.”

“Apologies.”

They were trapped.

Which—not to sound too uncouth—just _sucked._

Like it terribly, terribly _sucked._

(If Sun was there to read her mind, she liked to think that he would be remarkably proud of her for such language.)

“I’m going to try and get up.” Blake said, “I’ll pull Nora up and then help you stand, okay Weiss?”

“Got it.” Weiss coughed, groaning a little when the ground seemed to rumble. 

“Up you go, Nora.” Blake said, helping her stand. “Wait, is that an... office?” She could barely see that she was frantically looking around “There are electric lamps down here.”

“They needed them to see.” Weiss managed out, carefully pushing herself up in a sitting position. The throbbing in her ankle didn’t let up, and she grimaced, it was definitely broken. “There might be a generator nearby, but I doubt it’s in running shape—this mine is _decades_ old.”

“I might be able to help.” Nora said, her breath leaving her in puffs. “I have a bit of extra lightning dust, I can probably manipulate it into starting—that way we can all see.”

“Take her.” Weiss said to where she could see Blake’s strings. “I’ll be fine, I can’t walk anyhow.”

Blake made a noise that sounded like she didn’t want to leave Weiss on her own, but then sighed. The golden string around her throat bobbed with uncertainty, and if Weiss squinted hard enough she could almost make out Blake’s features in the yellow glow. “Right.” Blake sighed.

“C’mon, Belladonna! It’ll be an _adventure_.”

“God, I hate you sometimes.” But she said this very much fondly.

“Thanks!” Nora chirped back. “Let’s go!”

“Yeah, okay.”

Weiss forced herself to stay calm in their absence, scooting away from the metal railing she’d crashed into. She accidentally smacked a rock toward it, and heard the tell tale sound of it falling into a much deeper pit.

Their luck really was the worst, wasn’t it?

Weiss spent the next twenty minutes fiddling with her comm, hearing nothing but static and the odd clipped word or phrase. She sighed in defeat, swearing quietly to herself. “Everything hurts.” She murmured quietly, reaching down and cradling her ankle. “Winter is going to _kill_ me if I don’t die down here first.” Weiss huffed, “Probably call me a daft heathen, or something as equally moronic.”

She winced, feeling a sharp pain in her stomach.

“Oh I do hope I don’t have too much internal bleeding.”

Just then, the lights flickered on, bathing everything in sickly yellow light. Even though the lamps were weak, Weiss still had to blink away the sudden spots in her eyes, rubbing at them with the back of her hand. 

“Wow Weiss, your ankle _is_ totally wrecked.” Nora said when she and Blake made it back. It appeared as though Blake had found something to make an improvised sling for her arm. Nora grinned down at her, and Weiss noticed one of her front teeth was missing. “We’re like, broken bone buddies—the three b’s.”

“Wonderful.” Weiss groaned, looking around. They seemed to be in some sort of cavern, sitting on an improvised bridge of stone that the workers must have used to get around. Blake and Nora had come from what looked like an old office, but the wood was old and rotting, almost blending in with the moss covered walls. If she looked up, she could see other openings and tracks for minecarts. She didn't see too much though, which meant they were either _very_ far down or still somewhat near the surface.

“You look like shit, Weiss.” Blake said softly, kneeling down and wrapping her ankle, ignoring the muffled cries of pain that escaped Weiss’ mouth. She shot her a smile, reaching out and squeezing her knee. “A new scar on your face after this, maybe.”

“Where?” She groaned out.

“On your left cheekbone.” Blake said, pausing and looking up at her. “Doesn’t look too bad though, a single slash.” She traced a line upwards on her own face, "Shrapnel get you?

"Yes." Weiss sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the railing encased in rock, her legs dangling through the bars of the railing. “I already have a scar on my face from the whims of a family member.” She grumbled to herself. “I don’t need another one.”

Really, how bad was her luck? She hoped it didn't scar, if only because it would remind her of her grandfather, and she was feeling very conflicted about him right about now, considering the fact that she might die in one of mines.

Nora whistled. “You haven’t looked over the edge yet, huh?” She gestured for the both of them to peek over the railing, Weiss having to look between the bars.

“_Fuck_.” She said, face paling as they looked down into an even deeper chasm below them.

“Understatement much?” Blake muttered, looking a little nauseous.

Sitting at the very bottom of the pit, sat a blob of inky darkness, parts of its body glowing red. It seemed to be... sleeping, almost.

“Normally I would totally be laughing at the word _ ‘fuck’ _coming out of the Ice Queen’s mouth but, I think like, that would be totally not cool right now.” Nora peeked over the edge, whistling quietly again to herself. “That looks fun, we should kill it before it wakes up and kills us.” She hefted her hammer with one arm, grimacing when it laid unsteadily on her shoulder.

“Or we can look for a way out.” Weiss murmured, “I’m not usually one for cowardice, truly, but that Grimm... well.” She grit her teeth. “Don’t you feel it? How much _worse_ it is down here?”

“Not one for cowardice?” Nora snorted. “Tell that to Ruby and your strings, better yet, do it at the same time to get it all over with.”

“_Shut up_!” Weiss snarled weakly.

“Enough.” Blake interjected. “Arguing will only wake it up, and I have a feeling the vertigo would be much, _much_ worse if it was actually awake.”

“It feels...” Weiss trailed off.

“Like it can pull our souls right out of our bodies, if it wanted.” Nora remarked, continuing after her and gritting her teeth. “Actually, I’m totally _not_ having a good time right now.”

“It can’t be a coincidence that _we’ve_ been cut off from everyone else.” Blake murmured, crouching down and gesturing for them to do the same. 

“Well, I mean.” Nora said. “It wasn’t like the Grimm up there can think much for themselves, do you think they could’ve been... taking orders from this one?”

“It’s not impossible.” Weiss murmured. “I wonder if it calculated for me being stupid.”

“Anything can calculate for you being stupid.” Nora retorted.

“We have to stay calm, find a way around it.” Blake said, ignoring Nora and kneeling down next to Weiss, “You memorized the outlines of this mine, right?” She shoved a bit of paper into her hands, “We found a map—can you tell us where we are?”

“I know the general area, yes.” Weiss whispered back, unable to take her eyes off the monster below. She grimaced, and swallowed, forcing her gaze onto the map before her. “This is one of Grandfather’s oldest, he was... proud of it, before the cave in and eventual... closing.”

Weiss blinked away the spots in her eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain of her injuries, and studied the map for a few moments, releasing a soft sigh of relief.

“What is it?” Blake asked.

“I think I know where we are.” Weiss said after a moment, folding the map and shoving it into one of her pouches. “We’re not as deep as I feared.”

“How is that?” Nora asked, “We must have fallen a couple of miles, right? I mean it’s so dark down here, not to mention it took like... a bit for us to actually land.”

"It could have just _felt_ that way." Blake noted. "I mean, everything happened kind of fast, and Weiss slowed us down a lot."

Nora hummed, thinking.

“We rolled into one of the caves.” Weiss added tiredly before anyone else could say anything, “Blake could probably make her way back up and get help—”

“It’s too late for that.” Blake hissed suddenly, her bow twitching. “It’s waking up.”

Weiss’ head snapped toward the chasm, her eyes widening as she took in the entirety of the Grimm below her.

It was a monstrous thing. 

It had no eyes, for one thing—either not there in the first place or hidden behind a sharp, bony mask. Darkness seemed to drip from it’s maw, mouth ringed red and teeth shining menacingly, it’s ears like a fox’s—long and tall and alert. A large tail, solid looking and a striped red, the end of it dipped in white fur caught Weiss' gaze next. As the Grimm prowled in the semi-darkness of the chasm, the tail would whip around randomly, smacking against boulders and old machines loudly.

Though it had no eyes, it felt like it was looking straight at them, a tongue licking over rows of sharp teeth as though it meant to do something with them. It felt like it wanted to rip into their necks, to grasp the strings in it's mouth and rip them apart.

It is impossible for Grimm to have the threads. They had no soul, after all, nothing to tie them to the world except for sheer malice. There was something about _that_ Grimm though, that set Weiss’ teeth on edge. As though even if it had none, it still desperately _wanted_ for some, and was willing to do more than kill to get them.

"Ugh." Nora groaned, swaying for a moment. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Weiss wasn't doing much better, slumping further into the rock, barely even noticing the discomfort as it dug into her bruised back.

Only Blake seemed to be dealing with it relatively well, but her face was looking slightly green.

Just at that moment, the bone mask shifted, revealing an assortment of human eyes staring back at them. Some of them were blind or torn to shreds, gory flesh messes, but too many were perfectly functional, different sizes and shapes and colors. Unconsciously, Weiss found herself taking in the colors. Blue and black and brown and green; all _kinds_ all of them watching and watching and—_wait_.

Was that _silver_? 

Weiss had only ever seen that exact shade, slightly glowing and sparkling, on Ruby. To her understanding, it was extremely rare to come across someone with them, and Weiss couldn't help but feel that the color was important somehow.

Though, that was kind of stupid, considering as she had no evidence to prove it.

“What the fuck?” Blake asked suddenly, reeling back, her gaze not leaving the eyes. “What the _fuck_—”

“This whole thing smells like a _really_ bad trip.” Nora laughed out, a little nervous.

“I can’t believe this.” Weiss murmured. “Grandfather was telling the _truth_—”

Nora shot her a look. “Well if you could spit it out before giant monster fox attacks us _please_—”

“Long story short, it wants our eyes.” Weiss shot back, struggling to her feet, using the railing to remain standing and putting the least amount of weight on her ankle as she could.

“Yeah _no shit_, but _why_ is the question—”

“Because of our gifts.” Weiss said very, very quietly.

The beast seemed to hear them anyway, a low growl escaping it as it began to nose at the wall, looking right up at them as though best deciding how to get where they were.

“We need to leave.” Weiss said, tensing. “There’s no way we can fight this thing.”

“_Why_?” Nora asked, shooting her fed up look. “Please share with the class, we are so _eagerly_ listening—”

“It can grab us by the strings!” Weiss snapped back. “Were you even _paying attention_?!” 

“That’s kind of unfair.” Nora grumbled. “Of course I was _paying attention_, but I hoped you might have some _specifics_ that you hadn’t shared earlier.”

“What’s the plan?” Blake asked quietly, interrupting them both.

Nora shot Weiss an expectant look.

“Don’t look at me.” Weiss said, “I’ve no experience—”

Nora shot her a frustrated look, “Yeah but you know the most _about_ it—”

“The only thing I know _about_ it is to _avoid_ it—”

“Shut up.” Blake snarled quietly.

“Sorry, Blake.” Weiss and Nora grumbled out together.

“It’s trapped for now, we have the high ground, but it won’t stay that way for long.” Blake noticed, looking down at it’s claws. It could certainly muster enough momentum to reach them, using them to dig into the stone and force its way up. “Nora, do you have enough grenades to bring the roof crashing down?”

“Uh, yeah.” Nora said. “Won’t that kill us?”

“Not if we time it right—see that up there? That’s a different stone than what’s around us, the same one that Professor Goodwitch was holding.” Blake explained.

“We could have a way out.” Weiss murmured. “They might be able to reach us in time.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Blake agreed, clenching her fists. She held a slightly battered Gambol Shroud in her hands, gripping it like it was a lifeline. “Weiss I need you to use your glyphs to protect us and keep it in place—”

“I—Blake—”

“Can you do it?” Blake asked her straight out.

“...Yes, with summoning.” Weiss said. She managed to generate enough aura to manage a very, very small one, but she was sure that she would be left with absolutely none of it left. “I suspect that if I try to trap it with platform glyphs it will only grow agitated, and it will weaken them if it tries to escape by attacking, but I don't know if I'll have enough aura to keep us walled off—”

“Summoning?” Nora interjected, looking confused.

“Yes.” Weiss agreed.

Blake shot her a sharp look, “But you can’t—”

“I can, just... it’s not a very efficient move to do in most battles, requires too much energy and focus for me to do it on the fly.” Weiss admitted quietly. “I can perhaps keep it confined in one area, chasing something, for... if I push it, a couple of minutes.”

"But no shields." Blake grit her teeth.

"We can use dust." Weiss said, "If we manipulate it properly we can make a wall... it might not work for long but if we hurry it might give us the chance we need to get out of here, or get help at least."

“So we gotta time it just right.” Nora said, working her jaw. “It’s definitely sentient so—”

“We’re going to need a backup distraction.” Blake said, bracing a foot onto the railing and getting ready to leap down. "We might not have a couple of minutes, Weiss."

Weiss felt horror surge up inside of her. “Blake—”

“I have my shadows and enough of my aura—”

“Your shadows don’t have any strings, it’ll be able to _tell you apart_—”

“What choice do we have? Nora needs to be up here to blow the roof and you need time to focus, not to mention the both of you can’t fight properly with your injuries!” Blake snapped back. “Besides, I have dust, its like you said, if I do it right we can end up with a staircase to heaven—”

“Here.” Weiss said, reaching into one of her pouches and shoving the rest of the dust she had into Blake’s palm. It was a mixture of gravity, earth, and ice dust. She’d used the last of her fire when fending off the Lancer.

“What—?” Blake blinked.

“You’re going to need a lot of it, fending it off.” Weiss interrupted, shooting her a glare and then turning to Nora. “Nora, do you have any to spare?”

“Yeah, some ice and earth.” She said, setting down her hammer to dig in her pouches.

“Weiss can use the ice.” Blake shoved back the ice dust into her palms, expression stern.

“But you—”

“You’re best with ice, ironically enough, and you’re probably going to need it.” Blake said as Nora handed Weiss the ice dust. She swallowed a little, pulling the ribbon out from her ears and tying her hair back before turning to Nora. “Here, take some lightning, just in case.”

“Just in case, she says.” Nora retorted, fingering the crystals unsteadily.

“If you don’t survive I really will be very cross with you.” Weiss said to Blake, reaching forward and drawing her into a clumsy hug. 

Blake froze, not that Weiss was very surprised, the both of them were comfortable enough with each other for the occasional pat or shoulder nudge; but it was very rare that one of them summoned up the courage for an actual hug. Blake twitched, hugging back awkwardly for a moment, before her hands gripped a little desperately at Weiss’ bolero. 

“Oh group hug.” Nora said, wrapping an arm around Blake and butting Weiss’ head with hers. “Nice.”

Weiss adjusted herself to better include Nora, laughing weakly.

“If any of you die I will reanimate you only to _actually _ kill you _myself_—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nora waved off Blake, mumbling a little into Weiss’ hair. “I was gonna say something similar, I know I can take her in a fight but I _do not_ want to deal with angry Yang Xiao Long, please and thank you—so you better keep breathing, asshole.”

“Oh, yes.” Weiss nodded a little. “I very much agree with Nora, in this case.”

“How terrible for the two of you.” Blake said, voice monotone.

Another growl reverberated throughout the cavern, sending a shiver down Weiss' spine.

“I have to go.” Blake whispered after a moment.

“That’s bull.” Nora said, but pulled away.

“I am once again agreeing with Nora.” Weiss wrinkled her nose, glaring at Blake. “How dare you make me agree with her more than once.”

“Oh, boo _hoo_, Ice Queen—”

Blake let out a shaky laugh. “Are there any last words, in case our comms are working a little and they can hear us?” When Weiss shot her a look, Blake shrugged. "Hey, if it turns out they aren't, at least our last words were kind of comforting."

“If you can hear this, sorry, you guys.” Nora said after a moment, not sounding particularly apologetic, before softening for a moment and closing her eyes. She looked stricken, despite the upbeat tone of her voice. “If this is my last moment I wish it could’ve been with all of you, especially you Ren, can’t believe I might never see that fine ass ever again—” Nora cut herself off, choking on the words.

“How romantic.” Weiss snorted, shakily pressing her hand against Nora's alright shoulder.

“Oh shut it, Ice Queen.” But Nora was smiling again.

“Um.” Blake said, “I uh, love you Yang.” The words were rushed out and awkward. “And... I really hope the rest of you make a better life for yourselves than ours, you know, considering we might die.”

The both turned to Weiss expectantly.

“Oh fuck no.” Weiss said, and they both blinked at the use of a cuss word, “Unlike you two dunces I am _not _ dying here, not to mention this is very much not exactly comforting.”

“Weiss, we both did it, you have to do it too.” Blake said, ignoring the growling of the Grimm and crossing her arms.

“Ugh.” Weiss said, looking away and closing her eyes tightly. “Fine.” She gripped the railing. “I’m terribly sorry, to you all—and would appreciate it greatly if someone were to tell my siblings that I... _love_ them.” A shuddering sigh escaped her mouth. “Make sure to use the word love, please; it's very important they know I said it, you know how it is, childhood trauma and all that.” She paused for a moment. "And Sun too, if you can."

“Anything else?” Nora asked, shooting her an unimpressed look.

“There’s too much to say.” Weiss said after a moment. “There’s not enough time—”

“There’s never enough time.” Blake leaned on the railing, eyeing the Grimm and watching as it started to walk in impatient circles. “You know that already, Weiss.”

She went silent for a moment. “I really am sorry, Ruby.” She said, very, very quietly. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you everything... so I’m sorry.”

It was quiet except for the growling beneath them.

“Well, that’s good enough for me.” Blake said after a moment, kissing both of them on the cheek before jumping down into the pit.

“Asshole.” Nora sighed fondly. 

Weiss stayed silent, cheeks red. “What the fuck.”

“First time?” Nora asked curiously, propping her grenade launcher on the railing and steadying herself. “I mean, despite the whole Ice Queen thing, you’re actually kind of smokin’ so I don’t know why you’re set off by a _cheek kiss_ of all things, I mean surely you’ve been to _at least_ second base.”

“What the _fuck_.” Weiss repeated.

“God, you’re so adorable when you’re embarrassed.” Nora cooed. “Now hurry up and summon before either I or that Grimm down there give you a _real _ kiss and render you speechless.”

“Please don’t.” She murmured weakly, forcing herself to calm down and focus on what was happening before her.

Blake had been right when she said that she was the one best suited to fight the Grimm. It was still dark, shadow seeming to drip from every crack and crevice—night vision seemed the only solution. Blake moved quickly and easily, slipping down and standing a good distance away from the Grimm—which hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. 

Weiss closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and forced herself to look back at the monster. If she somehow managed to kill it and lived, Winter would be jealous of such a summon. 

(She knew she probably wouldn’t kill it, but having one over on her sister was a surprisingly strong motivator.)

A small glyph appeared near its feet. The Grimm paused, turning it’s million eyes down at the glowing sigil and nosing at it curiously. It recoiled suddenly, a wrecked howl escaping its mouth. It clawed angrily at her glyph, and Weiss stumbled under the sudden strain.

“It recognizes it.” Weiss said in horror. “It fought my grandfather so it—”

“That’s really unfortunate!” Blake yelled from a ledge below them, the Grimm paused, turning its head toward her voice. “I’m the distraction now, I guess!”

“God, why is _everyone _ on team RWBY so fucking stupid?” Nora grumbled. “Wait, Ruby’s actually pretty smart when it comes to these things, the rest of y’all or dumb as hell though, and yes I’m including Yang, her semblance is basically ‘_hit me baby one more time’_—”

“Distract it until I get a summon!” Weiss yelled, ignoring the nuisance next to her. “Then retreat!” 

“No promises.” Blake called, and began to shoot at the blasted thing, leaping off the ledge.

Weiss forced herself to calm down, trying to ignore the sounds of Blake’s grunting while she fought it off. She actually seemed to be holding up pretty well, not letting it get close enough to actually touch her or her strings. She used the earth dust to throw clones at it, smacking against the Grimm's hide and pissing it off even more than before.

"Ah crap." Blake swore just loud enough for Weiss and Nora to hear, hastily trying to move out of the way as the Grimm lunged.

It got lucky, jumping wildly away from her and to where Blake's string to Yang extended through the ceiling. It swatted at it wildly, just managing to to pull it, but it was enough to slow her momentum and send her sprawling. 

Blake was up again in a flash, but Weiss knew that if she didn't hurry it wouldn't stay that way.

“Come on.” She whispered quietly to herself as a sword began to make its way out of the glyph. “ _Come on._” It was far too big, she knew, there would be nothing left to protect her or Nora; but Weiss didn’t dare stop. 

“Weiss? Your nose is bleeding really badly—”

“Get Blake.” She managed out, seeing just how _close_ the creature was to grasping one of her strings in it's maw. “Tell her to get up here, _now_—”

The ringing in her ears drowned out Nora’s response, and Weiss noticed her vision begin to get fuzzy. She had used so much already, _so much_, but if she let up for even a moment; they were dead. Two arms escaped from the glyph, and it seemed to push itself upward, as though it was trying to get out by itself—to allow Weiss a moment of reprieve.

She let out a wrecked groan, and finally, _finally_ there Arma Gigas stood; proud and dashing and absolutely _radiating_ light. Her knight lit up the entire chasm below, revealing not only old and broken machinery, but ruined miner gear and uniforms, no doubt belonging to the Grimm's victims.

“What the fuck is that?” She heard Nora say, though her hearing was slightly distorted. “Weiss? Weiss, what the fuck—”

“Arma Gigas.” She managed out. “The Grimm will recognize it.”

“What do you mean it'll _recognize _it—”

A ear shattering roar reverberated around the cave, so loud that some rock fell from the ceiling. Looking down, the Grimm had moved away from Blake, recognizing her summon as something else.

(Someone else.)

“It was modeled after Grandfather.” She slurred quietly. “Father thought it most appropriate.” 

“That’s fucked.” Nora said, looking down to where Weiss was swaying helplessly. She couldn’t take her one good arm off her grenade launcher, but she offered the shoulder of her injured arm. “Lean on me before you collapse, Ice Queen.”

She obeyed silently, hand on the pommel of her rapier. She looked down, noticing the stain of red on it’s tip. Nora hadn’t lied about being stabbed.

“Worry about it later.” Nora grumbled, noticing her line of sight. “Control your weird robot.”

“It was a geist.” Weiss murmured defensively, “Not a _robot_.”

“Why are you offended?” Nora asked, before pausing for a moment. “Do you consider it like your kid or something? Ooh, have you named them yet—”

“Arma Gigas.” Weiss slurred, watching as her knight began to slash at the monster. It’s movements were sloppy, making Weiss grit her teeth and focus a little bit harder. _Duck._ She thought, and the summon ducked just as the Grimm leaped over its head. It would have knocked the knight over if the pounce had landed, potentially startling Weiss enough to lose concentration.

She felt something warm sliding down her nose. Ah, so it appeared Nora hadn’t been lying about her bloody nose either.

“That’s not a name, it's too pretentious.” Nora protested. “Ah, here comes Blake.”

“Weiss!?” Blake’s voice yelled, “You’re—”

“Yeah she knows.” Nora grumbled, reaiming her grenade launcher to follow the fight, waiting for the Grimm to line up with the right areas she could fire. “Doesn’t seem to give a shit that doing this is probably giving her brain damage or something.”

“Weiss, give me the ice dust, I can wall us off a bit, you’re... uh, obviously busy.” Blake said.

“She’s not gonna respond.” Nora sighed, “She’s out of it.”

Weiss wanted to protest, but that took too much concentration away from the Grimm below them. She caught another glimpse inside it’s mask, half of the eyes on Arma Gigas and the other half watching them.

“That’s creepy.” Blake murmured, reaching and awkwardly grabbing the ice dust from her pouch. “Weiss lead it to—”

“Got it.” She managed through grit teeth, accidentally spitting blood from her mouth. Weiss didn’t even have the time to think _‘gross’ _ before all her attention was once again consumed by her summon. _Jump back, then roll to the right—_

The knight obeyed, stumbling slightly when the Grimm smacked at it’s leg with it’s very freaky looking tail. 

“Nora—”

“I got it.”

A great, shuddering boom reverberated throughout the cavern; large, jagged rocks falling from the ceiling and toward the Grimm. 

It seemed to shriek, rearing up to move away from the falling debris, but Weiss pushed just a little bit harder—and suddenly the knight was stabbing downward, impaling the monster’s tail to the floor. An even louder shriek escaped it’s strange mouth, as Nora fired again and again at the ceiling, bringing larger and larger boulders and spikes of stone down on top of it.

Debris landed on Arma Gigas, smacking against its shoulders; and Weiss let out a hoarse scream as she fell to her knees, her own shoulders buckling under a pain that wasn’t hers. Blake grasped her tightly, pulling her to her feet and saying something that Weiss couldn’t make out.

Light streamed through the cavern, the afternoon sun beaming down toward them. Arma Gigas moved, narrowly but not always dodging large chunks of rock. With every impact Weiss felt weaker and weaker, her vision blurring until her knight was there, grabbing all three of them with little care.

“Weiss?!” Blake yelped.

“Gonna throw us.” She slurred.

“Oh, smart.” Nora laughed, “And fun, if your child kills us I won't blame them, trying to give us a last bit of joy before our inevitable demise, it's really sweet.”

Her knight took a running step forward, powerfully hurling them into the sky. They landed hard, the soft dirt doing nothing to cushion them. Weiss heard a snap, and suddenly there was another burning pain, this time in her arm. 

She let out a gasp of pain, rolling to clutch her arm tightly to her chest, only to find herself facing the hole that Nora had managed to create, watching as debris fell into the chasm.

_Kill it._ She thought, one last order, looking down at her knight and where the Grimm was trapped. _Kill it, kill it, kill it, kill-it-kill-it-kill—_

Arma Gigas grasped it’s sword, running back to the Grimm, pinned by falling rock—it’s limbs jutting out along with its head, snarling and whimpering. Her knight swung down hard at it’s head. It was not a clean decapitation, bringing down the sword over and over and over again—ignoring the occasional chunk of earth falling against it’s armor.

Hands gripped at her, wiping the blood from her nose and desperately trying to get her to calm down. “Weiss, Weiss, let go—” It was Blake.

“I’m killing it.” She snarled, words filled with animosity and unslurred. The clearest she’d spoken so far. “It won’t go another day, won’t _brutalize_ another one of us.” _Kill it._ "Never again."

This time Nora interjected, “Your _arm_ you dumb—”

Weiss paid no attention, watching in satisfaction as Arma Gigas finally managed to remove it’s head. The sword was dripping with inky shadow, slipping off of it and allowing the white glow to shine brighter. The ground seemed to stop shaking, her knight grasping the monster's head and climbing up over the rocks. She let out a wet gasp, turning her cheek to look away from the chasm, clenching her eyes shut as she tried to take in the sensation of the wet grass beneath her.

“You guys, you're okay!” A familiar voice called, sounding relieved. "I was so scared, wait a second _Weiss_—”

“Ruby, slow down—”

"_Weiss_!"

The ground shook again, a glowing white grieve shining against the grass. Arma Gigas climbed up, holding the head of the monster like some sort of sick trophy.

Blake gripped Weiss, drawing her to her chest and looking at the head with a pale face. “There’s so many, so many—”

Weiss blinked away the spots in her eyes, looking up at her knight, watching it kneel and bow its head. She stared at the helmet, taking in the familiar edges and slopes of the helmet. She laughed, a bitter bloody thing. 

How poetic was it that the shade in a replication of her grandfather’s armor be the thing to slay that monstrous creature?

"Thank you." She murmured, reaching out with her good arm. The knight scooted closer, kneeling even lower and butting it's helmet lightly against the palm of her hand. It stood again, and bowed one last time, before setting the head of the Grimm on the floor. This close it was more obviously foxlike, melting shadow giving way to tons of dead eyes.

Her knight grasped it's sword, holding it so it pointed downwards, and began to disintegrate—pieces of the summon fading into the wind, still glowing.

The weight on her chest and shoulders seemed to lift after Arma Gigas was gone, but with her summon went her adrenaline. She let out a pitiful groan, more aware of her injuries now than before.

Blake looked down at her. “You killed it.” She said in disbelief.

“Hardly counts.” Weiss said back quietly. “It might have killed me.” Her head fell back against her chest, “Blood loss is _not_ a very honorable way to go.”

“You aren’t dying, drama queen.” Blake said, but her face was contorted in worry.

“Yeah.” Nora wheezed from beside Weiss, “Not until I kill you for throwing us up here and make me land on my already broken arm.”

More yells, a mixture of all of their names.

“Our partners are here.” Blake sighed out. “Thank goodness.”

“Yes.” Weiss agreed. “Now I can lose consciousness.”

“Do _not._ ” Nora scowled, reaching over and slapping her on her face. “If I have to stay awake so do you.”

Weiss groaned, looking back at the slowly melting Grimm head. The eyes remained, and she felt sick when they began to pile up, some of them staring unseeingly at her. 

“Weiss—” A flurry of rose petals, and suddenly Ruby was standing over them. “You guys—”

“I told you not to run!” Yang shouted, and heavy footsteps making their way towards them. "You're aura is practically nothing right now—"

Weiss sighed, closing her eyes, basking in the sounds of Yang failing to lecture her sister.

“I’m not cradling you anymore.” Blake said, pressing a kiss to Weiss' bloody cheek before turning away. “Here Ruby, grab her so I can go kiss my girlfriend.”

“Uh, alright—but you have blood on your mouth.” New arms wrapped around her body, under her back and around her shoulders. “Jeez.” Ruby murmured, and something pressed against Weiss' forehead. “Why’d you have to and make me worry like that?”

Weiss blinked open her eyes, blearily meeting Ruby’s own. She was close, their foreheads pressed to each other. “Apologies.”

Ruby smiled, and tears streamed down her face as she moved to rub away the blood and dirt from Weiss’ own. “No you aren’t, jerk.” Someone called Ruby’s name, and her partner nodded resolutely. She moved quicker than Weiss could process, lifting her easily into her arms and beginning a hasty trek towards what Weiss assumed was the airship.

“I suppose not.” Weiss smiled weakly at her, setting her good arm around her neck. “I am sorry for not being sorry, if that makes it any better.”

“It doesn’t.” Ruby murmured, not quite looking at her.

Nearby, Weiss thought she heard more crying. 

Her eyes were so heavy. 

“I can’t...” Weiss murmured. “I’m tired.”

“Stay awake for a little while longer.” Ruby begged, hurrying up into the airship. “Please, just for a little while—”

"Oh, Ruby." Weiss sighed fondly. "One might start to think you care, giving me all this attention."

She heard a scoff as Ruby set her down very carefully, looking her over for injuries. "Of course I care, jerk."

Weiss was shocked silent for a moment. "Right." She nodded, closing her eyes. "Forgot."

"I'll make sure you don't." Ruby said, wiping dirt and blood from Weiss' face with her sleeve.

She must have made quite the picture, Weiss thought to herself. Battered and bloody and nearly dead. Well, she hoped she wasn't nearly dead, but everything _did _hurt a great deal, and Weiss knew better than to hope for things by now.

"Open your eyes." Ruby commanded sternly, but behind her bravado Weiss was sure she heard tears.

"You could at least say please." Weiss grumbled, obeying her quietly. "I jumped into a pit." She said after a moment, the reality of it sinking in for a moment. "Wow."

"Wow." Ruby agreed. "I get why you had to, but please try not to do it _again._" She put a hand on Weiss' cheek, brushing away at something that seemed to be stuck there. "I was so worried, don't you know?" She asked, her voice soft.

Weiss blinked for a moment, "Right." Despite herself, a blush seemed to rush into her face. "I will try, but I'm afraid I can't make much of a promise."

Ruby sighed, smiling. "Well, we both know that if I was in your position I'd do the same, so it's not like I can blame you."

“Miss Rose.” Professor Goodwitch murmured, interrupting them and setting a hand on her shoulder. “Please let me attend to Miss Schnee.”

Ruby frowned. “I can’t just _leave_ her—”

“Then stay.” Weiss rasped out, she looked to the side at the professor. “She can stay, right?”

Goodwitch softened, pulling open a medkit. "Not really," She said bluntly, "Please try and stay awake Miss Schnee—”

“Ugh.” Weiss groaned, closing her eyes. She felt someone grip at her hand, strong and familiar. 

“Stay awake.” 

“‘S hard.” Weiss murmured, shakily managing to blink her eyes open. 

Ruby was looking down at her, brows furrowed and eyes full of tears. “Didn’t you have something to tell me? You did right? I know you were gonna tell me earlier, but I... we heard everything on the comms—”

“Right—” Weiss said, and for once did not think for the consequences. (Though to be honest that could have just been her injuries making it hard for her to think properly.) “The string.”

“What is it?” Ruby asked her quietly, and if Weiss was more awake she might've been able to see the obvious sadness on her face.

“My string.” She grasped at her neck, the crimson thread thrumming in her hand. “My string—”

Ruby’s expression mellowed out into something softer, a reluctant acceptance. “Weiss—”

“It’s yours.” Weiss wheezed, “Always has been.”

“Weiss.” Ruby said, and there it was, the astonishment. "Wait, wait, a second, I thought that—" Ruby was gripping her tighter. “_Weiss._”

But her eyes were already closing, and she was already drifting into the depths of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter went in a very different direction than i intended. I was actually gonna make ruby find out about the strings in a real big battle where nora was forced to make everyone see but, well... that obviously changed. i kind of like it better this way, anyhow, i mean the revelation was still terribly terribly sad, but at least this way weiss had her own agency, y'know? like, she was fucking gone but at least she got to spit it out herself. oh and blake, nora, and weiss working together was a really interesting dynamic to write tbh
> 
> anyway, how are all of you?


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